Parody Paradise
by Ivory Tower
Summary: Warped Draco angst, dirty boutiques, and bizarre perversion! Chapter 24 up: Ginny is really an elven princess! This means the nonsense cannot be measured by any scale known to mankind! Jolly good fun here, kiddies!
1. Default Chapter

Title: Welcome To Harry's World of Angst  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
  
Snape entered Dumbledore's office with much trepidation. A summons like this in the midst of the summer holiday couldn't be good. Well, not unless it meant...he'd finally been accpeted for the much coveted DADA position! Yes, that must be it!  
  
"Have a seat, Severus," greeted the Headmaster good-naturedly. "Would you care for a rocket pop?"  
  
"No thank-you, Headmaster." Snape sat, hardly able to contain himself. This *had* to mean he was going to be the new DADA professor!  
  
"How is your holiday coming along?"  
  
"Very well, Headmaster." It was coming! Snape could feel it! The great announcement!  
  
"Severus...I hate to ask you to do this, but the other teachers are very conveniently not available for this part in the plot. Would you please go and check up on Harry for me? I realize this has never been done before, but I just get the strangest notions in my old age."  
  
"Euh-heh. Heh." Snape couldn't laugh. This was not funny. This was not happening! "Come again, Headmaster?"  
  
"Indulge an old man's whim, Severus. That's a good lad. Here, give Harry this rocket pop and my regards when you see him. Off with you!"  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
"Oooooooooooh," Harry groaned in the feeblest of feeble tones. He had only eaten half a cracker upon arriving at the Dursley's a month ago. His back was agonizingly sore from being used as a tic-tac-toe board for Vernon and Dudley Dursley's vulgar amusement. Harry wished they'd stop using the butterknife and go back to the sharper steak knife. Poor Hedgwig had nearly forgotten how to fly she'd been caged up for so long. Things were just terrible! Oh how Harry missed Hogwarts. He just wanted to die! And he was naked! Oh, the humanity!  
  
Snape arrived at the Dursley's, and pressed the doorbell with his wand. Petunia answered the door and gaped at him with bulging eyes.  
  
"Greetings, madam. Would you like to buy a rocket pop?" Snape produced Dumbledore's rocket pop as a token of his profession. "It's for a good cause," Snape added.  
  
"Who's at the door, Petunia," roared a voice so rude you just wanted to stomp it's owner to death. "We don't want any," roared Vernon Dursley, filling up the doorway with his enormous ass.  
  
"I smell candy!" Dudley shook the entire block as he slowly made his way toward the door.  
  
Snape rolled his eyes. Why had he even bothered? Obviously he had only done this to show how much the Dursleys deserve to be eradicated from the face of the planet. He apparates into Harry's room, by sheer luck, and tries to adjust to the atmospheric dim light.  
  
"Professor Snape? Help me, I'm naked," croaks a very weak and waifish Harry.  
  
"Well, put some clothes on, you perverted boy. Here, take your silly rocket pop."  
  
"Professor...Dudley ate my clothes...and he sodomised me with my wand."  
  
"I hope Albus kicks himself hard when I inform him of this," mutters a frustrated Snape. "Very well, Potter, you may wear my shirt. I'll be right back."  
  
Harry puts Snape's shirt on and sucks on the rocket pop while Snape goes back downstairs, and punishes the Dursley's with a magic cattle prod. They are never heard from again as they have now been conveniently written out of the plot.  
  
Fastforward a few months...  
  
Hermione is Head Girl, and her beauty is only second to that adorable Ginny Weasley, or is that vice versa? Anyway, Draco is undergoing therapy after his father forces him to witness a Death Eater gang bang orgy/quadruple muggle murder spree as part of his initiation to the dark side of the force. No one is quite able to figure out why Malfoy screams whenever he sees puppets. Normally, there are no puppets at Hogwarts, but in these dark times a competent DADA teacher is hard to come by, you see.  
  
Remus and Sirius are gay lovers living down in the basement. This makes Snape angry. The DADA puppet/professor is a charming and witty dinner companion who makes lighthearted conversation about the art of body hair. This makes Snape angry.  
  
Voldemort shows up during a touchig therapy session where Draco declares his love for Hermione, who declares her love for Ron, who loves Harry, who loves Ginny, who loves Snape, who burns with a secret fiery passion for Albus Dumbledore. Remus, who is conducting the therapy session, is so enraged by Voldemort's interruption that he transforms into a werewolf despite it being high noon, and a waning crescent.  
  
"Harry, this is your moment to shine," announces Hermione, because she's always saying clever things.  
  
"Kill him for me, my love," says Ron, who then comes to his senses and stutters, "Y-You-k-now-ww-who! Arrrrgh! Run!"  
  
"Stop being such a pussy, Ron," says sexy, bisexual Sirius from the couch, lighting a cigarette. Sirius has Turret's Syndrome 99.9 percent of the time, but he's getting help, so that's good.  
  
Voldemort is then defeated by Ginny Weasley's cute little shimmering pink thong. There's a lot of slick lighting effects, and Voldemort is vanquished. Everybody cheers and begin to talk in nineteenth century english. Dumbledore sends out for 20,000 kegs of Firewhiskey. This is very good. In the midst of their drunken carousing, everyone kisses and makes up for all the wrongs in their past lives, and says how wonderful a couple everyone would be with one another. It's just so damn slap happy you want to vomit, and you pray for a militia of Death Eaters to rush in and put everybody out of their misery. This, of course, does not happen, and there's another 200 pages of borderline smut because we aren't allowed good old fashion pornography anymore.  
  
Things now become twisted because even the author is sick of all the damn sticky sweet goodness. Dark and twisted themes arise out of the cracks in the basement, despite Voldemort's death. Draco is now pregnant with Remus' lovechild. Snape turns out to be Harry's father and James' secret lover in a passion that was never meant to be. Somehow Sirius is involved, though he's usually too drunk to know what year it is. Lily turns out to have been quite the little tart in her school days; she even did it with Professor Binns, and that's what finally killed the old bastard. Filch has now taken to murmuring suspiciously with the DADA puppet, who turns out to be a reincarnated Voldemort to the nth power!   
  
Luckily, Hermione has been studying to become a master at sex magic, and this helps to save the day yet again. This makes Snape angry, for it is he who secretly wanted to be known as the sex magic master, but he starts a complex relationship with Hermione, and that's okay. So, in the end it all turns out okay until the sequal, which goes into full depth coverage of every single person who had a secret romance with the strangely alluring DADA puppet. This sequal will be entitled: The Puppet Master. It will be rated R. Now all the readers have this concept to give them nightmares of anticipation about sex with inanimate objects, only since this is the wizarding world, the puppet has a mind of it's own, and it's quite a naughty mind, I must say. Until then, dear reader...  
  
Yes, the story finishes with a chilling cliffhanger that has all readers biting their toenails in anticipation.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: Once again, I offer no apoligies for the sudden change in verb tense. Hey, lots these cliche fics have this, it's all the rage, you know. 


	2. 

Title: Hogwarts School of Horrific Plotlines  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
Hermione walked into the Great Hall and shouted, "Hey everybody, look at me! I'm back, and I'm the new Transfiguration professor since old McGonagall's conveniently kicked the bucket."  
  
"Yes," replied Dumbledore sadly. "She walked right into a deadly Avada Kadavra curse. The perpetrator is still at large. Oh what trying times these are."  
  
"Um-yes." Hermione cleared her throat and beamed anew. "Anyway, check out my new, pretty feminine, form fitting red dress."  
  
"It goes lovely with your glossy curls, my dear."  
  
"Why thank you, Professor Flitwick."  
  
"Where are your robes?" demanded Snape.  
  
"Neville ate them," replied Hermione, seating herself at the Head Table. "So, you sexy Snape, you. Let's shag!"  
  
"Let's not." Snape frowned down at his undercooked meatloaf.  
  
Dumbledore arose. "Your attention please! I would like to remind everyone that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are dead. Also, Miss Granger is free to shag anyone over the age of sixteen, though she generally prefers much older men." Here, Dumbledore's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled. Snape choked on his undercooked meatloaf and felt ill. He suddenly missed McGonagall terribly.  
  
Just then, Ron ran in with none other than the famous Harry Potter.  
  
"You're not dead, then? There is no God!" exclaimed Snape, sinking into a deep depression.  
  
"We just escaped Voldemort's evil clutches with our very lives! We are changing our identities to add flavor to the plot. From now on, I shall be Sniggerneous Elsum." Ron bowed then pointed to Harry.  
  
"And I am Pendarvis."  
  
"Pendarvis who?" Dumbledore wanted to know.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Just Pendarvis. Oh, and now we go around in disguise." Harry put on a pair of aristocratic wire frame glasses. Ron donned a pair of black sneakers.  
  
"Ta da!"  
  
Everyone applauded, except for Snape, who buried his face in his hands and rubbed his temples.  
  
"Fifty points to Gryffindor," awarded Dumbledore with bravado. "Now, let us eat!"  
  
Harry and Ron seated themselves near Hermione and the Headmaster.  
  
"Funny thing about You-Know-Who," said Ron, picking up a fork, "he is rather fond of rolling about on tarps covered with cooking oil."   
  
Harry nodded in earnest agreement. Snape's meatloaf churned in his stomach.  
  
"My panties are too tight," declared Hermione, pulling them off and tossing them aside. The panties landed on Hagrid's head. Hagrid continued to dig into his spotted dick with much fervor. Appearently, he hadn't noticed, or didn't care, or liked the feeling of red lace panties on his head. "Now I have a chill. Professor Snape, may I sit on your lap?"  
  
"Certainly not, Miss Granger!"  
  
"May I?" inquired Flitwick in a small voice.  
  
"No!"  
  
"A song," burst Ron suddenly. "A song! Oh please, Headmaster Dumbledore! Twas ever so gloomy down in Voldermort's private pleasure chambers."  
  
"His floating mattress was no picnic either," muttered Harry.  
  
"Very well," agreed Dumbledore good-naturedly. He waved his wand and began:  
  
I love silk sockies  
  
Filled with big, thick lockies!  
  
"What's a lockie," interrupted Hagrid.  
  
"Use your imagination," replied Dumbledore.  
  
Snape spat out his lukewarm chicken noodle soup and regarded the Headmaster in horror.  
  
"Go on," urged Hermione. "I like it!"  
  
"I feel sick," said Snape.  
  
"Oh hush, and let the Headmaster continue."  
  
The importance of socks cannot be denied.  
  
I buy them by the bushel, one hundred at a time!  
  
They just seem to be made for certain men's endowments.  
  
Once I tried nylons, but Minerva wouldn't allow it!  
  
Oooooooh, I love to stuff them down my pants-  
  
"You wear pants?"  
  
"Shhh, Harry!"   
  
"It's Pendarvis"  
  
"Oh whatever!"  
  
The electric feel of wool against my *CENSORED* puts me in a trance!   
  
"Of course, this is strictly off the top of my head, you understand," added the Headmaster quickly.  
  
"I think it's brilliant." stated Harry with a smile.  
  
"Hear! Hear!" yelled Ron, banging his fists on the table.  
  
"'ermione? Are these yer panties?"  
  
"Yes. You keep them, Hagrid."  
  
Hagrid blushed and thrust the red panties inside his coat pocket. Snape got to his feet.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, Headmaster. I believe I'll retire for the evening."  
  
"Not yet, Severus! It is time for the grand unveiling!"  
  
"What grand unveiling?"  
  
"This!"  
  
Dumbledore tore off Snape's robes.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Cornelius Fudge, "That's my man bra! Lucius, I thought I told you to guard it with your life."  
  
Lucius blushed. "Yes, well...there was a slight complication that demanded Severus' assistance."  
  
"Oh hell!" Snape took off the man bra and flung it to the floor. "Lucius was at the wall holes again, and-"  
  
"Shut up," hissed the debonair blond, leaping to his feet.  
  
"Time for another unveiling," called Dumbledore, seizing Lucius' robes.  
  
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"My nipple clamps," shouted Harry.  
  
"My word," gasped Hermione. "So tis true about the trademark Malfoy dong."  
  
"Oooooooh!" squealed a fifth year girl. "Can I touch it?"  
  
Snape's jaw dropped. No one had asked to touch *his* staff of power.  
  
Just then, Draco decided to grace everyone with his presence. All great reunions happen in the Great Hall, or in the hospital ward, but I digress...Draco leapt atop the Head Table and held up his hands.  
  
"Voldemort has been vanquished," he triumphantly announced.  
  
"How is it so?" Hermione wanted to know.  
  
"He beheld the magnificance that is my ass and was no more."  
  
"Uh, how did You-Know-Who get a glance of your ass, Malfoy?" asked Ron.  
  
Draco took a drink of pumpkin juice and continued, "The dark lord saw fit to spank my marvelous ass for my insolence. I simply could not bring myself to don a sequined catsuit and beat him with the tail."  
  
Snape clutched his stomach. "Too much information," he groaned.  
  
"Well then," said Dumbledore, "This calls for a celebration!"  
  
"Gang bang!"  
  
"No! No! Not yet, Hagrid. First, the socks."  
  
Dumbledore clapped his hands, summoning Dobby the house elf, who brought forth a big basket of assorted socks. Dumbledore drooled. Hermione tittered insanely. Snape shuddered.  
  
"I suppose we can put our robes back on," he stated, tying a bright yellow sash around his torn black robes to hold them shut.   
  
Lucius continued to stand in the nude.  
  
'Show off,' thought Snape, tying the yellow sash in a pretty double bow around his slender waist.  
  
Meanwhile, Fudge crawled across the floor and retrieved his man bra or bro, as they are fashionably called, whilst Hagrid attempted to play catscradle with Hermione's lacey panties.  
  
"A game!" cried Ron. "We must have a game!"  
  
Everyone took up the chant. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"We shall play 'Stuff the Wizard's Pants Silly With Socks'".  
  
"Hooray!" shouted Lucius and Draco, jumping up and down, dongs bouncing likewise.  
  
Harry frowned. "How do you play that?"  
  
"It's simple, Harry. I'll stand here while everyone stuffs all these socks down the front of my pants."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Then," continued Dumbledore, "I become highly aroused and disrobe people at random."  
  
"All right then." Harry picked up a maroon sock.  
  
"So that's where ally my maroon socks went," exclaimed Ron.  
  
"Too true, my dear Sniggerneous."  
  
"Then let us eat much fruit and watch the sexual perversion, Malfoy."  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow. "Malfoy, you weren't here when Ron and Harry gave their new identities. How do you know that Ron's new name is Sniggerneous?"  
  
"The Malfoy dong knows all, Granger. Now shut up and let Sniggy and I eat our luscious pomegranates."  
  
"Oh blow it out your splendid ass, Malfoy," huffed Hermione.  
  
A random student walked by. "Have a sock".  
  
"I don't want a sock! I want Snape for a seat warmer."  
  
Snape laughed a terrible laugh. "You'll have to catch me first, Miss Granger."  
  
The two began a game of chase throughout the grand castle.  
  
"No! No! Not that one! The yellow one with the green trimming will do quite nicely," said Dumbledore to a third year witch.  
  
As the evening drew to a close, the front of the Headmaster's pants positively bulged with an abundance of socks. Twas really quite obscene looking. The students giggled like the children they were as they darted about the Great Hall, each one a potential victim of Dumbledore's disrobing fetish. It was rather like a game of tag, only naughtier.  
  
Hagrid had knit Hermione's lacey red panties into a clever red beret, which he proudly sported at a coquettish angle on his bushy head. Fudge's man bra now adorned the chandalier conjured into existence for mere convenience of plot. However, Harry's prized nipple clamps (said to have been used by Merlin himself) at least that's what the antique nipple clamps claimed, were being put to good use by Filch and Madam Pince.  
  
Snape would have had the perfect hiding spot from the slightly chilled Hermione, but at the last minute Lucius and one other snuck into the room. Malfoy senior, in a generous mood, was giving Minerva McGonagall a free sample of the trademark Malfoy dong. Horrified a the noises he heard, Snape crawled out from under the bouncing bed and sprinted out the door, not daring to look back.  
  
In the end, Hermione cornered the Potions Master in the third corridor just shy of the Advanced Arithmancy classroom. Snape sighed, fully resigned.  
  
"Very well, Miss Granger, you may sit on my-"  
  
Hermione promptly tackled the grouchy, greasy-haired git and decided to give his trumpet a blast or two. Indeed, the event added an extra chapter to Hogwarts: A History as the only time in the history of the school that Severus Snape awarded Gryffindor House points. A week after the incident, he swept about the castle with a dirty smirk firmly implanted on his pale face.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: Isn't that nice? Oh, a few of you wanted to know my sex. I am a 25-year-old single white female. See, women can be naughty too. Anyway, there's more where this came from. Stay tuned for more twisted perversion! 


	3. The Perfect Day That Went Bad In A Good ...

Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me.  
  
"The Perfect Day That Went Bad in a Good Way"  
  
by: Ivory Tower  
  
Hermione woke up and realized she was madly in love with Professor Snape. That same day everyone else in the school realized how radiantly beautiful Hermione had become overnight. What a perfect day it was becoming! Hermione was made Prefect and even though she was only a student the was now allowed to sit at the Head Table whenever she felt like it.That same day Hermione suddenly realized, during a game of Quidditch, that her seeker skills almost surpassed Harry's despite the fact she'd always been the most average of flyers. Instead of wearing the ususal black uniform robes Hermione immediately switched to wearing beautiful pink robes instead. She also wore a touch of makeup because it just made her feel so grown up!  
Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and a cast of hundreds of other males within the school all fell madly in love with Hermione. Draco was having an inner struggle over being in love with a mudblood, a very beautiful and intelligent mudblood, but a mudblood nonetheless. Oh what would his father say if he found out!?! Tears filled Draco's beautiful grey eyes when he thought of how heartbroken his mother would be if he was stricken from the family Bible. But all would be risked for the fair Hermione, even savage beatings and steamy, detailed rapings courtesy of Lucius Malfoy.  
Snape was so in love with that siren named Hermione that he started to act nothing like his former cruel, callous self. Yes, Severus Snape was now a truely reformed man, just like that! Not all the Cruciatus Curses (and Snape had suffered about a zillion of those because we all love to read about Snape being frail and helpless) had been able to change Snape for better or for worse. Only Hermione's abrupt blossoming into eye candy, with a brain to rival both Einstein's and Dumbledore's, had softened dear old Snape into a sickeningly sweet man. I tell you I saw the man accidently step on an ant and he sank onto his knees crying like the pathetically weak character he'd become!  
Things were going so well it was positively terrific! Everyone joined hands and skipped about Hogwarts singing of the joys of life, love and of Hermione's ethereal beauty. Fawns came out of the Forbidden Forest and played enchanting music. The streams ran with wine instead of water. Hagrid got roaringly drunk on the divine wine but he did not get sick. He knew there would be no hangover or even the dangers of damaging his liver because the wine was so special due to everyone's euphoria.  
Hermione now decided to wear beautiful, trailing robes of white chiffon and Lavender Brown gave her a pedicure so everyone could fawn over Hermione's lovely feet. Harry spent half the fortune his parents left him on a dazzling tiara made of platinum and diamonds for the Venus-like Hermione. Everyone was so eager to see Hermione wear the exquisite tiara that Dumbledore decided to make a ceremony of it. Classes were cancelled so the entire school could bear witness to Hermione placing the stunning platinum tiara on her now super straight, sleek, glossified hair. Those bushy frizzies had bit the dust, as had Snape's lifelong problem with excessively oily hair. Love works in powerfully strange ways.   
"Miss Granger! A hundred points from Gryffindor for being dressed in that rediculous costume! If this is your tiara then Gryffindor will definitely not win the House Cup this year!"  
McGonagall was disgusted at Hermione for bringing such shame to Gryffindor House and deducted an additional 75 points. Malfoy was more than happy to remind Snape that Harry Potter had purchased the tiara for Hermione. Snape smiled a smile that would send Jack the Ripper to the asylum crying for his mummy.  
"You're in deep shit," whispered Ron, who'd finally come to. Snape strode over to Harry and glared down at him, pondering the boy's doom. Harry shot Hermione a very dirty look while Snape's black eyes gleamed with a maniacle delight no normal human being is capable of.  
"Potter, I would like nothing more than to shove this tiara up your ass, but Dumbledore would sack me and hire an inferior to replace me. Instead, I shall...GIVE THIS TIARA TO SYBIL TRELAWNEY TO WEAR EVERYDAY! HA! HA! HA!"  
"NOOOOOO!!!!" Harry blacked out as did Ron and Minerva McGonagall.  
"My God, man! Have you no soul," demanded a shocked Professor Lupin.  
"I do not," retorted Snape evilly, whirling to face Lupin. Those black eyes gleamed with all the vileness of mental corruption. "Lupin," he continued in a threatening tone, "let's have sex in the Prefect's bathroom this time."  
"Okay." Lupin's face relaxed a little. They linked arms and exited the Great Hall leaving everyone to their fate.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: I've finally tracked down my old parodies. Hooray! I'm still mad at ff.net for deleting all of my old ones and my lovely, lovely reviews. Thanks to all who read and review. You have to have a warped sense of humor to appreciate these. 


	4. Hermione's Botched Love Life

Title: Hermione's Severely Botched Love Life  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
  
Hogwarts was hosting its annual staff Christmas party. Hagrid was stationed by the egg nog, loudly humming Christmas carols. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall were sampling the familiar deli tray to make sure that the ham was up to par. Dumbledore and Professor Sprout were in the midst of a confetti fight. Filch watched while adding a generous amount of whiskey to his hot cider, seemingly mindless of the huge mess he would later have to clean up.   
  
Professor Granger; however, was standing near the door, a little awed by the spectacle. The was her first year of teaching at Hogwarts, and she still felt a little shy around her colleagues. Even Snape, she noticed, was in attendance. He was stationed by the mixed nuts, carefully picking out the cashews, and munching them with a sour expression. Sibyl Trelawney, decked in a nightmarish pearlescent sequined gown, emerged with a tray of cocktail glasses.  
  
"Martinis, anyone," she asked as though offering to tell fortunes. Hermione relented and accpeted one. Snape and McGonagall did likewise.  
  
"A toast," said Minerva, "to-"  
  
WE INTERRUPT THIS STORY TO BRING YOU THE MOMENT OF TRUTH!!!!!! Snape notices that Hermione is drop dead gorgeous. Yeah, baby! His icy heart of 18 years has melted, and he longs to fondle Professor Granger's voluptuous breasts.  
  
Hermione took a modest sip of her alcoholic beverage. Snape suddenly looked less grumpy, and more...well, he looked quite horny, to be perfectly honest. Must be the alcohol. Professor Granger then excused herself to the conveniently picturesque window where she could sadly reflect on a past relationship gone bad.  
  
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it is time for the overused and pointless flashback scenario!  
  
Tired from a strenuous day at the Ministry of Magic, Hermione entered the flat she shared with Ron Weasley. A little oral sex sounded soothing after such a difficult day. First, though, Hermione wanted a nice cup of tea.  
  
"Ron," she called out, laying aside her important satchel containing the Ministry's next strategy against Voldemort, "would you be a dear and put on a kettle of tea while I slip into my sexy yet modest lounging attire?" No response. "Ron?" Hermione walked down the dark hallway of foreshadowing to the bedroom, and knocked on the door. "Are you in there, Ron? It's getting awfully suspenseful out here."  
  
Hermione thought she heard a noise so she walked on in. Ron was wearing a sequined, multi-colored thong, a shirt and tie, long black socks, and one of Hermione's bras on his head. He was on the telephone, and he was daincing while rubbing his crotch.  
  
"Oh yeah, baby. It's *aaaallll* good," Ron told the person on the other end.  
Hermione stared, horrified. Then, rage overtook her. She, too, began to dance and rub herself.  
  
"Is it all good, Ron? Huh? Is it," Hermione asked angrily.  
  
Ron whirled around to face his fiancee, a stupid look of surprise on his face. It was the last memory of Ron that Hermione would ever have, for she had left him that night, never to return.  
Tears filled Hermione's brown/honey/golden/hazel eyes as she recalled Ron's downward spiral into1-900 number smut. The obsession had robbed him of what dignity he'd ever had. Percy had sent his condolences, along with an all-too-casual inquiry of the exact digits of the malignant sexline. Hermione secretly blamed Arthur Weasley and his fascination with all things muggle for his sons' phone sex fetish. She could not enjoy the party; therefore, there was but one thing to do.  
  
Ten minutes later, Hermione walked outside in the softly falling snow, clad in her laciest night attire. The moon was so bright and sad and romantic that Hermione began to dance. Alcohol always made her want to dance in her sensual night clothes. It was good for the story.  
  
Que Snape's Not-So-Dramatic-Entrance-To-The-Outdoor-Elements  
  
"Miss Granger? Why are you dressed so poorly in such weather? Do you want your feet to freeze, and turn black, and rot off? That gown accentuates your clevage perfectly. Your nipples are stading at perfect attention. You dance like a drunken angel."  
  
"Oh, Professor Snape! You say such pretty things! Tee hee! Come dance with me."  
Snape shrugged, and the two proceeded to do Stevie Nicks twirls in the softly falling snow. The sheer romanticism of it all made even Snape's yellow, uneven teeth beautiful in their own weird way.  
  
"Is it all good, Professor Snape?"  
  
"Oh, it's *aaalllllll* good, Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione instantly knew that she had found her eternal soulmate that had been prophesized three pastlives, twice removed, ago. A prophecy prophesized by none other than the all-powerful toilet bowl of Nicholas Flamel himself. Nevermind the other 47 times she had felt this way after drinking alcohol. Tonight was forever. She could *feel* it!  
  
Twelve hours of forever later...  
  
Hermione awoke naked in a room that wasn't hers. It wasn't a bedroom at all. In fact, it was-.  
  
"Good morning, Miss Granger."  
  
"Headmaster!" Hermione rolled off the headmaster's desk and scrambled to cover herself. "I-what-why are you wearing my nightie? Where's Snape?"  
  
"Ah, he has been in the shower for the past two hours, attempting to scrub cherry red lipstick from his entire body."  
"What *happened*?"  
  
Dumbledore fixed Hermione with a firm gaze. "Do you really want to know?"  
  
"I-I'm afraid! What have I done?"  
  
"The question, I believe, should be what *haven't* you done, Miss Granger? Hermione gasped and put a hand to her mouth. "We just found Filius dangling from the chandalier by what I believe are your stockings. He was quite incoherent, but the few things he did say involved olives and other things I won't discuss in the light of day."  
  
"Headmaster, I assure you that I don't remember a thing! I don't even have cherry red lipstick."  
  
"Severus does," stated Dumbledore cooly. "Along with a pair of black patent leather pumps." Dumbledore motioned down at his feet. Hermione winced. She didn't need to see that right now. "What I cannot figure out," continued the headmaster, "is how Minerva's panties ended up on Hagrid *without* the aid of magic."  
  
"None of this is making any sense," shouted Hermione, her head reeling.  
  
"Ah, but these things rarely do, Miss Granger. However, I believe it would be quiet inappropriate for you to remain estranged from Ronald Weasley on the pretense of decency."  
  
Hermione sighed. "You're right, Professor. I guess all of us have our vices."  
  
And so, Hermione went back to Ron and her old job at the Ministry of Magic. Snape didn't feel too bad. After all, there were plenty of new DADA professors to keep him busy. But sometimes, on certain winter nights when the snow is softly falling and the moonlight is especially bright, you can still see Professor Snape, his skinny body covered in cherry red lipstick, twirling in the newley fallen snow while an old man in a lacy negligee and black patent leather pumps, looks on.  
  
~FIN~ 


	5. Little Shop of Horrors

Title: Little Shop of Horrors  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters. Last night I dreamed that Snape was a Jedi Master. I think I need therapy-I like Star Wars, but I never considered myself a die hard fan. Scary. Anyway, onto the fic.  
  
  
Young Ginny Weasley was behind the counter of Dominatrix Delights, last shop before exiting Hogsmeade, when the bell clanged. At first, Ginny paid no attention to the customer because a new shipment of Trilling Panties needed to be counted and recorded before displaying them. When Ginny finally looked up from the paperwork, she was a tad surprised to see Draco Malfoy browsing the aisles.  
  
Malfoy nodded to her, and continued to eye the lacy teddies most keenly. Ginny remembered hearing somewhere that Pansy adored lace. Maybe Pansy's birthday was coming up. Maybe Draco just wanted to fuck Pansy's brains out, and had a lace fetish.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with," inquired Ginny, her curiosity deeply aroused. She wanted the details on Draco's and Pansy's little love affair. Hermione would simply die-it was well known that Hermione had an odd fixation concerning Malfoy and a leather bit.  
  
Draco shook his head. "Oh no, I'm good," he replied, sounding perfectly at ease. Malfoy, a real ladies man.  
  
Ginny began stocking the Trilling Panties, and Malfoy continued to browse. He was now examining the various erotic scents. Prowling amongst the beautiful assorted bottles, Malfoy would pick one at random, open it, and inhale deeply. Each time he did so, Malfoy would smile a perverted, dreamy smile, and stare upward in pure rapture. Ginny thought this was kind of weird, but hey, to each to his own.  
  
The bell clanged again, this time announcing Professor McGonagall's entrance. Ginny immediately forgot Malfoy, and tried not to stare at the Transfiguration Professor.  
  
"Miss Weasley, would you point me in the direction of the Surprise Size-Changing Dildoes?" McGonagall used the same voice as though she were in class and checking to see if you were paying attention or not.  
  
Ginny pointed toward the back. "Aisle five." She secretly thought that McGonagall had very good taste indeed. Ginny turned back to stocking the display, and found Malfoy, a look encompassing the very essence of ectasy, rubbing a pair of pearlescent Trilling Panties across his cheek. At length, Ginny found her voice.  
  
"Are you going to buy those?"  
  
Malfoy smirked. "Nope." He replaced the panties and moved on.  
  
McGonagall's firm tone boomed from the back of the store, "Miss Weasley, would you send someone back here to-assist me with these?"  
  
Ginny blanched, then pointed her wand to her throat. "Sonarus. Customer needs assistance on aisle five. Oh, and we need more Fantasy Fuck Fun Kits up at the front. They're flying off the shelves!"  
  
Returning to her station behind the counter, Ginny hummed while straightening the displays of impulse items. In the midst of giving the very cheap cock rings (seven Knuts apiece) a quick polishing, Ginny was distracted yet again by the bell. Ginny dropped her wand when none other than Albus Dumbledore, the illustrious Headmaster of Hogwarts, walked into Dominatrix Delights.  
  
"P-P-Professor, w-what-?"  
  
"Oh, I just love visting new shops," announced Dumbledore as though he were in a museum, or some other more appropriate place.  
  
Just then, Malfoy approached the counter with a Random Sex-Changing Inflatable Doll, one of the Lockhart edition.  
  
"Aren't you going to buy any clothes for it?"  
  
Malfoy smirked. "Why bother?"  
  
"Miss Weasley," shouted McGonagall's rather strained voice from the back of the store, "would you be so kind as to call another assistant?"  
  
Ginny sighed and pointed the wand to her throat. "Customer needs *another* assistant on aisle five. We're running low on Aphrodesiac Saucey Punch on aisle two."  
  
Ginny was reflecting on how weird the day was becoming as she restocked the Fantasy Fuck Fun Kits. The cover showed a scantily clad man wearing undies and a cheesy grin, pulling a Cat-O-Nine-Tails and a midget in a jester costume out of the box, while a scantily clad woman looked on, smiling with both hands on her face to emphasize her surprise.  
  
"Hey Ginny," shouted Keith, another store assistant, who was busy with the Aphrodesiac Saucey Puncy, "customer needs in the dressing room."  
  
Without hardly looking, Ginny went over and pointed her wand at the lock on the dressing room door. "Alohamora." Two aisles over, where the dildoes were displayed, Professor McGonagall sounded very enthusiastic.  
  
"Oh yes! They're all so wonderful, I just can't decide!"  
  
Merlin's beard! She, Ginny, was surrounded by perverts. Oh well, at least she got paid for it.  
  
Ron and Harry stopped in for a brief visit. Both purchased a bottle of Gilderoy Lockhart's Special Tickle-Tingly Lubricant. Ginny filled them in on Malfoy's inflatable random sex-changing doll. Ron snorted.  
  
"Wonder if Pansy knows about Malfoy's new friend?"  
  
"Must be a Slytherin thing," added Harry, and the two friends departed with their purchases and very preoccupied visages.  
  
Dumbledore calmly approached the counter. "Miss Weasley, I was wondering if I might speak with the manager."  
  
"Sure." Ginny summoned the manager, and hoped he'd be quick about it. She felt very uncomfortable surrounded by so much sexual perversion with the Headmaster of her school. Indeed, Ginny felt her cheeks beging to grow hot. Fortunately, the manager swept into view.  
  
"What do you want," Snape snapped at Ginny, who pointed to Dumbledore.  
  
"Ah, Severus, what do you think of this?" Dumbledore dropped his robe to reveal a red lace and satin teddie embroidered with gold fringe, fishnet hose, a garter belt, and red high heels. Ginny tried not to stare at the gold tassles dangling from Dumbledore's nipples. She felt horrible for doing so, but couldn't *not* stare.  
  
For once in his life, Snape looked genuinely shocked. He just stared. In truth, the man looked rather frightened.  
  
"This is the Serepentine Seductress ensemble," Dumbledore informed Snape. "Should I go with this or a nice french maid outfit?"  
  
"Miss Weasley," said Snape, not taking his eyes off Dumbledore, "why did I decide to take this job, again?"  
  
"I believe it was the fifty percent discount off Dr. Underall's complete series of The Art of Spanking, Professor."  
  
Dumbledore looked positively delighted upon hearing this.  
  
"Why, Severus, I had no idea you appreciated the beauty of bum smacking! You must let me borrow those books sometime."  
  
Around this time, Neville walked in looking quite uneasy.  
  
"Merlin's beard! I didn't know it could get *that* big," exclaimed McGonagall from aisle five.  
  
Neville blanched upon hearing this, and looked faint when he saw Professor Dumbledore in a "dirty shop".  
  
"Hi, Neville," greeted Ginny. "What's up?"  
  
Neville swallowed. "Gran wants me to pick her up a Fantasy Fuck Fun Kit."  
  
"Another one," snapped Snape. "Longbottom, that's the twelfth one in two days. Does the woman sleep?"  
  
Neville shrugged. "She says no two are alike and-and, I think she's becoming addicted! I hear the most terrible noises coming from her room."  
  
Snape smirked. Neville's grandmum marched into Dominatrix Delights, looking most displeased. Now it was the others turn to smirk, for she was wearing her lacy green dress and trademark vulture-topped hat. Snape frowned. Dumbledore chuckled softly behind his hand.  
  
"Neville, what is taking you so long? I told you not to look at anything."  
  
"Sorry, Gran. Um-is this one all right?"  
  
"Albus Dumbledore," shrieked Neville's grandmother, upon spotting the Headmaster.  
  
Dumbledore bowed. "Madame. How are you this fine day?"  
  
"Red is simply *not* your color," replied Neville's grandmum haughtily.  
  
"I am entirely open to any suggestions you might have," said Dumbledore graciously.  
  
"Well, let's see what we can find." Together, the two old people went to the clothing racks.  
  
Neville's curiosity overwhelmed his horror. When his gran wasn't looking, he purchased a cock ring. Ginny promised to help him put it to good use. Neville beamed, for he had scored, and also put one over on the old woman. He felt very naughty, indeed. Snape shuddered at the implications. If Ron Weasley weren't always busy fucking Harry Potter's brains out, he would notice his little sister's bad taste in boys.  
  
"Severus Snape!" barked Neville's gran in a stern voice. "Put this on!" She tossed a black leather vest at him.  
  
Snape caught it and frowned. "I will not. Not during store hours."  
  
"Oh yes, you will. I am a customer, and you, as manager, must do whatever it takes to see that I am happy. Now, put that vest on."  
  
Snape frowned, and slowly took off his robes.  
  
"And the shirt," prompted Neville's gran.  
  
Slowly, slowly, Snape unbuttoned and pulled off his black shirt. He was very white, and rather thin. 'He'd look better if he had a bit of color to him,' thought Ginny.  
  
"Why, Severus, that looks wonderful on you," commented Dumbledore, as Snape put the black leather vest on.  
  
"Happy now," he coldly inquired of Neville's grandmum.  
  
The worthy matron responded by flinging a skimpy black leather thong at him. Snape's jaw dropped.  
  
"I will *not* wear that *thing* in front of all these people."  
  
Neville's grandmum pointed at the dressing room. "If you insist on being modest, you may change in private."  
  
Ginny unlocked the door with the aid of her wand, and watched Snape expectantly with the others. Snape eyed them as though they were crazy.  
  
"This is *not* my style. Not at all! Miss Weasley is too young to-."  
  
"Oh come off it, Severus," interjected Dumbledore with a laugh. "Everyone knows Miss Weasley is every boy's darling at Hogwarts. You need to get more fun out of life."  
  
Outnumbered, Snape trudged into the dressing room, and slowly closed the door. McGonagall rushed up to the counter with her arms full.  
  
"I'll take five of these!" She plopped the Surprise Size-Changing Dildoes into the counter. While Ginny rang up her order, McGonagall watched Neville's gran hand Dumbledore a gauzy negligee in a nice blue that matched his eyes.  
  
"Severus Snape, we are waiting," said Neville's grandmum in her firm voice.  
  
"I'm cold! This is the most degrading-."  
  
"Hush, and come out!"  
  
The dressing room door squeaked open, and Severus Snape emerged in all his leather clad glory. He looked very sulky as he glared at Neville's gran *and* at Neville.  
  
"Your legs are skinny."  
  
"Shut up, Minerva!"  
  
"That thong fits you like a dream, Severus Snape," breathed Neville's grandmum. "Turn around. Go on."  
  
With a face that would melt glass, Snape obeyed.  
  
"Oh, look at that tight little ass," exclaimed Neville's gran. "You need a leash to go with that, Severus Snape."  
  
Minerva looked most amused upon hearing this comment, and smiled into her hand as an assistant was sent off to get a few designer leashes. Neville was absolutely bedazzled by his Gran's dominating of the horrible Potions Master. Neville looked at her with a newfound respect. Ginny was practically bursting with all the new information she had to tell Harry, Ron, and Hermione.  
  
Ten minutes later there was truely a sight to behold inside the little boutique: Severus Snape, on his hands and knees, with the Headmaster riding astride him wearing the pretty gauzy blue negligee, black nylons, a garter belt, and blue high heels to match; using a leather leash as a rein.  
  
"I don't believe this," stated Snape, almost monotone with shock at his current circumstances.  
  
"I believe I would like a riding crop," announced Dumbledore politely.  
  
Ginny sent an assistant to find a suitable riding crop for the Headmaster. Neville's gran stood with McGonagall, admiring the tableau from afar, hands clasped together in adoration. Minerva stood with the big smirk on her face. After all, it had been a very long time since either woman had seen a man in his thirties wearing so little, and in such a compromising position. Neville was speechless. Never again, would he look at Professor Snape in quite the same way.  
  
"Whee! This is fun," giggled Dumbledore, swatting Snape's ass with the riding crop. "Go faster!"  
  
"Oh, my knees," groaned Snape, picking up speed.  
  
"I'll fix that." With a flick of Dumbldore's wand, Snape now sported some mean-looking knee pads, black, of course. "Now go, horsie, go! Whee!"  
  
Thank you for visiting Dominatrix Delights, last ship before exiting Hogsmeade. We hope to see you again soon!  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: I had to end it there-I was laughing too hard to write anymore. I kind of like this one. How about you? 


	6. Hogwarts School of Perversion

Title: Hogwarts School of Perversion  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
  
Dumbledore looked pleased and surprised at Professor Lupin's presence in his office.  
  
"Have a seat, Remus. Would you like a lollipop, little boy?"  
  
"Uh...I'm in my thirties, but I'll take a grape one if you've got it." Remus nervously seated himself in front of the Headmaster's desk.  
  
Albus folded his hands on his desk and watched Professor Lupin unwrap the lollipop.   
  
"Is Severus bothering you again?"  
  
"No. No. Not that."  
  
"So the two of you are having sex again. Correct?"  
  
Lupin looked quite comical the way his eyes bulged in horror, lollipop stationary in his mouth.   
  
"You-how...well, actually that makes my question a little easier to ask."  
  
"Yes?" Dumbledore continued to look quite calm and in complete earnest.  
  
"Well," Remus sighed, "how is it you know about every single relationship that goes on in this school? Heterosexual. Homosexual. Multiple partners-it's all so complicated, yet nothing surprises you in the least."  
  
"My dear Professor Lupin," laughed Dumbledore good-naturedly. "I have not lived this long being dense, you know. Aside from that, I am a licensed voyer with a passion for dirty photographs. It's one of my favorite hobbies-aside from sampling candy from all over the world. This school was not founded by saints, you know."  
  
Interested, Remus sat up straight. "What do you mean?"  
  
"The four founders of Hogwarts cast a powerful spell that seeps into the very foundation of this castle. In turn, only the sexually gifted are drawn, shall we say, to attend this school."  
  
"But, what about the letters that-?"  
  
"Hogwarts only allows those with potential to attend, of course, but students who just aren't cut out for, say, threesomes or beastiality, never finish the seven years. They are weeded out and quietly discarded."  
  
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled most merrily as he said this. Not knowing what to say, Lupin continued sucking his lollipop.  
  
"Oh, the countless stories I could tell you," chuckled Dumbledore. "One of my favorite things to watch..."  
  
Pans to a seemingly typical day in Potions.  
  
Students are absorbed in the measuring and mixing of ingredients. There is a soft bubbling of cauldrons and clinking of phials in the background. The back of Snape's billowing black robes are seen as he slowly makes his rounds of inspection. He approaches the front of the class, turns, and we see that Snape is wearing tight black leather pants, black leather boots with dark green snakes twisting up the ankles, and a black shirt unbuttoned to expose his pale chest. Hot damn! In his right hand he is holding a whip.  
  
"Miss Granger," he says in that abrupt way of his, "what are you doing with Longbottom?"  
  
"Helping him, sir," replies Hermione, somewhat meekly.  
  
"Detention! Be in my chambers-be here tonight at eight o'clock. And you'd best not keep me waiting." Snape tauntingly tapped the whip into his left palm.  
  
Ron looked at Harry. "What do you think he wants?"   
  
Harry shrugged and looked at Hermione, who also looked puzzled, and scared.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy!"  
  
"Yes, sir?"  
  
"What are you doing with those hippogriff talons?"  
  
"I'm dangling them menacingly over Longbottom's cauldron, sir."  
  
Neville sighed. "Why must everyone use *my* cauldron to make a commotion? Couldn't you use Parvati's or Seamus' for some variety?"  
  
"Shut up, Longbottom!" Snape stalked over to Draco and regarded him sternly.  
  
"Am I-in trouble, sir," inquired Draco lazily as he leaned against the table.  
  
Snape's eyes flashed. "Yes!"  
  
"*Bad* trouble?" Draco tossed his gorgeous silver-blond mane, and locked eyes with the Potions Master.  
  
Snape's grip on the whip tightened. "Yes," he repeated, rather breathlessly.  
  
"Do I deserve a *spanking*, sir?" Draco allowed his robe to casually slip off one shoulder to reveal he was bare and powdered naked underneath.  
  
Snape's breathing came out shakily, and he had to bite down on the whip to control himself. Hermione watched this little exchange with some interest. Everyone else, including Neville, went about their work. Snape's expression was a combination of rage and arousal. He leaned over Draco, placing both hands on either side of the pale, elfish Slytherin.  
  
"I'm using the saddle on you tonight, boy. Do you hear?" His lips were inches away from Draco's. Draco smiled evilly.  
  
"And the riding crop as well, sir?"  
  
Snape shook as he clutched the whip even tighter. "Miss Granger!" He whirled around to glare at Hermione. "Your detention will take place *tomorrow* at eight. Wear something...low-cut."  
  
Ron looked at Hermione sympathetically. "Bummer. What do you think he wants?"  
  
"I don't know. I hope I won't have to pickled dragon tongues or anything gross like that. At least I have this evening free to spend in the library."  
  
"Talking in class, Miss Granger? Add a pair of black silk nylons to that low-cut outfit!"  
  
"Maybe she'll have to scrub the desks or something," said Ron to Harry.   
  
~FIN~  
  
Next chapter: Hermione serves detention...and a whole lot more!  
  
A/N: As always any sudden changes in verb tense are entirely intentional! I had a really hot dream the other night about Lucius Malfoy. It involved rollerskates. 


	7. Delightful Detention

"Delightful Detention"  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
Hermione's black six inch stiletto heels clicked all through her apprehensive trek down into the dungeon. Cold air instantly hit her legs and whooshed up her black, lacy, low-cut dress upon entering the familiar classroom. There were no vats of dead things or signs of pickling serum, which struck Hermione as a good sign. But where was Snape? Hermione strained to see in the dim torchlight.  
  
"Hermione," squeaked a familiar voice.  
  
"What the-?" Hermione looked around. Ginny Weasley came rushing at her from an unknow location, scaring the be-jesus out of Hermione.  
  
"Ginny! What are you doing down here?" Hermione noted that the small red head wore a sparkling green teddy, glittery green pumps and a black feather boa. "Do you have detention as well?"  
  
Ginny giggled. "You could say that."  
  
"Miss Weasley!" Snape stalked out of his office in all his leather clad glory. "You aren't here to socialize."  
  
Ginny pouted. "But you said I could ride the pony."  
  
"I don't care! Put that bow back in your hair."  
  
"It makes me look too girlish."  
  
"That's the point, Miss Weasley."  
  
Ginny grumbled as she put a sparkling green bow in her vivid red hair, angling it coquettishly.  
  
"Miss Granger, put those manacles down! They're not for you. Honestly, I feel more and more like a babysitter these days."  
  
"Can we go and see the ponies now?"  
  
"Dammit, Miss Weasley! I am going to throw a saddle over your back and ride *you* over to see the ponies if you do not shut your mouth this instant! Do you drink vodka, Miss Granger?"  
  
"Sometimes."  
  
"Good. Take this." Snape tossed a leash at Hermione, who examined it in bewilderment.  
  
"What's this for?"  
  
Snape actually smiled, and he looked ugly as sin in a very *good* way. "We're going to play Dungeon Master."  
  
"Oh!" Ginny jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Can I ride the Wheel Of Love this time, Professor?"  
  
"You're too young, Miss Weasley! Sit out here and make sure Mr. Malfoy doesn't sneak down and try to make off with my French Tickler collection. Follow me, Miss Granger."  
  
With a small shrug Hermione followed Snape into his office. Oh what an office it was! More like a sexual obstacle course than some stuffy old room Snape used to grade papers in.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Why is that metal bar hanging from the ceiling?"  
  
"Funny you should ask, Miss Granger. You are going to chain me to that bar...eventually."  
  
"I am?"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Then what?"  
  
Snape's black eyes fixed Hermione with a piercing stare. "Then you are going to beat me."  
  
A smile slowly unfurled across Hermione Granger's face...  
  
Ginny's P.O.V  
  
Professor Snape could be such an ass! Leaving her out here like this without any erotica or magical vibrators with which to amuse herself. Ginny slumped on the burgundy velvet stool and swung her feet, examining her black fishnet hose, wondering what time it was. She lit up a cigarette and exhaled slowly, hoping Draco Malfoy *would* sneak down into the dungeon. Why *couldn't* she ride the Wheel Of Love? She had all but reinacted the tree rape scene from "The Evil Dead" for Professor Snape. He was a very difficult man to please.  
  
The crack of Snape's bullwhip snapped through the air, instantly making Ginny sit to attention.  
  
"Mother of God! YES!" shrieked Snape in a a very strained tone.  
  
Ooooh, it sounded like he'd been an especially naughty Dungeon Master this time! Really it was such a fun game to play: The Dungeon Master kidnapped young maidens and locked them down in the dungeon to ravage at his leisure. The young maiden was subjected to all kinds of lurid, degrading sexual treatment at the cruel hands of the Dungeon Master. Then, the tables were turned when the maiden was able to free herself from a very compromising position (usually tied straddled to a chair or whatnot) behind the Dungeon Master's back. The real fun began when the maiden became the dominatrix and gave the Dungeon Master a taste of his own medicine.  
  
"May I have another one, mummy?"  
  
That whip snap, crackled and popped! Hermione was a born natural at this! With a devilish smirk Ginny slid off the stool and crept over to the door to have a peek. She *liked* detention with Professor Snape! Not far behind her the pale, sinewy figure of Draco Malfoy stole through the shadows towards Snape's desk...  
  
"And that," concluded Dumbledore, "is just one of the fond memories I have of the goings on in this lovely little school of ours. Why, Professor Lupin, is that a grin I see?"  
  
Remus quivered with excitement and bolted his shot of Ogden's Firewhiskey.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, Headmaster, I believe Severus hinted his afternoon would be free."  
  
"Yes. Yes. Of course, my dear Remus. And mind that Professor Snape mixes a fresh batch of developing formula. I feel a photo shoot coming on."  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: God that was fun to write! I think I'm getting addicted to writing this stuff. Stay tuned for the next exciting chapter that centers around Malfoy's "member" if you know what I mean. And I think you do. Feeling dirty yet? Good. I like dirty. 


	8. Malfoy's Member

"Malfoy's 'Member'"  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.  
  
  
Harry Potter was on his way to Transfiguration when a voice distracted him. To begin with, Harry was always accompanied by Hermione and/or Ron on the way to class so this is an unlikely setting. Secondly, a school the size of Hogwarts never has a completely empty corridor, but when has common sense ever been a factor in fan fiction? Actually, the corridor contained one other person besides Harry, thus the distracting voice.  
  
"Hey, Potter! Come here."  
  
Harry turned around and somewhere there was a corner, a dark corner specifically designed (all those hundreds of years ago) for Draco Malfoy to lie in wait for Harry Potter. Nevermind that young Draco ought to be in class. He's badboy Malfoy and can do whatever the fuck he wants.  
  
"What are you doing out here, Malfoy?"  
  
"Ice skating. What does it look like?"  
  
"Hell if I know! You're probably jerking off with visions of Snape dancing in your head."  
  
"Hardly." Malfoy stepped out of the shadows looking normal enough, except his grey eyes glittered in a way Harry didn't trust.  
  
Instead of being his usual, moronic self Harry Potter did a remarkable thing: he stood his ground and said,"Why don't you come here?"  
  
"Okay." Malfoy shrugged and casually approached Potter. Well naturally this puzzled Harry and it showed. "I just want to show you something."  
  
Harry was getting smarter by the second. Clutching his own wand in readiness, he told Draco to slowly exhibit his wand into clear view. Again the Slytherin complied most agreeably. Paranoia hit Harry like a freight train. 'What the fuck?' he thought, beginning to sweat.  
  
"I just wanna show you something, Harry. Look." Malfoy opened the folds of his black robe to reveal his nude body in all its glory.  
  
Harry gasped in a croaking sort of way, his green eyes grew wide, and he grinned. Then Voldemort snuck behind Harry and clonked him over the head. Something about Harry's undernourished, skinny frame and tousled black hair struck a pang within Malfoy's soul.  
  
"You can't have him," he screamed at Voldemort. Draco scooped Harry up, flung the Golden Boy over his shoulder, and raced down the hall, open robe flaring to expose the trademark Malfoy dong flapping in the wind.  
  
Minerva McGonagall was on her way to the staff room for a belated cup of tea when she saw Draco's exposed form dashing towards her.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, whatever are you doing? A hundred points from-oh my dear god that's the biggest schlong I've seen in over twenty years!" Astounded, McGonagall fell against the wall, her knees weak in that pleasant sort of way. She grinned as Malfoy raced by, straining her neck to get a decent view of Draco's tight little ass beneath his flared robe.  
  
Professor Remus Lupin, coming back from a lengthy discussion with Dumbledore, thought he heard rapid footfalls heading his way. In a blur he saw *IT*! He saw, but did not believe. Not at first, anyway. Lupin nearly choked on his grape lollipop when his brain finally confirmed what his eyes had seen.  
  
"Crikey! That's the king's mighty iron rod and then some! Must run in the family. I wonder if the Headmaster is getting this on film-hey Albus!" Professor Lupin took off in the opposite direction.  
  
Flitwick screamed and ran to hide in the Astronomy Tower. Professor Vector realized everything she'd ever believed about Arithmancy to be a fallacy. Trelawney rushed up into her tower to see if well-endowed blondes were anywhere in her near future.   
  
Still, Malfoy ran carrying Harry Potter. He wasn't too worried about Voldemort's presence in the castle. Voldemort would let Draco have his own way in the end. The Death Eaters were also a secret society partaking of carnal pleasures, a subject Lucius Malfoy excelled in. Yes, Voldemort would allow Draco to have his own way with Harry.  
  
Before the day ended every student and professor within the walls of Hogwarts had borne witness to Draco's...extremeties. At dinner everyone discussed the legacy of the Malfoy manhood and how it was all a part of the Grand Plan. But we won't go into that. The important thing was that Draco learn to use his "tool" properly.  
  
Luckily (or not) Malfoy had already acquired quite a line up of experience in a short amount of time. Among his long list of "companions" were: Lucius (naturally); Hermione; Hermione with Snape; just Snape; Ron and Ginny Weasley; just Ron; Ginny; all those unknown, unnamed Slytherin boys; Pansy Parkinson (because she had such a strong jaw); Voldemort (the details on that one were a bit fuzzy); Narcissa's friend Raoul (Draco remained unsure of Raoul's sex, but Raoul sure had a great body and was one of Blaise Zabini's parents) and, finally, Harry Potter-just to name a few.  
  
"How was he, Harry," whispered Hermione breathlessly.  
  
Harry was all smiles. "That's the best way of regaining consciousness I've ever experienced. It even surpassed the time I woke up and was in the middle of a fruit bar and Ron and Neville-"  
  
Ron cleared his throat loudly. "Harry, I'm supposed to be clueless when it comes to sex in any way, shape or form. Remember?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Hey look! Ginny's commemorated Malfoy's penis with her mashed potatoes."  
  
"Very impressive, Miss Weasley." Snape stood over the small red-head, inspecting her work. "You deserve to ride the pony."  
  
"Oh yay, Professor Snape!" To Harry, Ron and Hermione, Ginny said, "Last summer at the beach Snape was making sand dicks and promised to help me with sculpting the male anatomy. He's such a perfectionist."  
  
"I wonder where Voldemort is," mused Harry as Snape and Ginny discreetly exited the Great Hall.  
  
"Who cares," called Malfoy from atop the Slytherin table. "Line up if you want to kiss my ass: the left cheek or the right."  
  
"Or in the middle," inquired Professor Trelawney meekly.  
  
"Oh sure!"  
  
"Hot dog," roared Hagrid, scrambling to get in line.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: The sand dick idea comes from a true experience of my own at the lake with a friend a few years back. The ass-kissing idea I borrowed from "The Witches of Eastwick", an absolutely wonderful book. Read it if you get a chance. 


	9. The Queen Mother of All Secrets

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. Check with J.K. Rowling.  
  
Title: "The Queen Mother of All Secrets"  
  
By: Ivory Tower  
  
Summary: Dear lord, not *another* secret about our beloved Harry Potter.  
  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione were on their way back from Hogsmeade when a strange old man with electric blue eyes crawled out from the Forbidden Forest. "Harry Potter," he wheezed, falling onto the path in front of them ,"You...have ...a...secret... Take... this...". The old man dropped dead, and from his hand rolled a shiny, pearlescent marble. With a slight frown Harry bent over and picked up the marble. The three friends examined it.  
  
"Whoa!" exclaimed Ron, completely mystified as usual, "This one must have been thru hundreds of games."  
  
"How do you know anything about marbles, Ron? It's a muggle game," Harry reminded his sidekick.   
  
Ron shrugged. *That* he did not know. Hermione, on the otherhand, had conjured up a tape measure and her handy dandy on-the-go potions kit for occasions just like this one! On a nearby table not far off the path she set up a miniature lab with which to test the marble. After much measuring, mixing, testing and recording of results Hermione returned to the two with a pleased smile.   
  
"It's a fairly *old* marble, Harry,"she announced with much awe and excitement, carefully dropping it into Harry's cupped palm.  
  
"Wow!" whispered Harry. "Another secret about myself that might alter the course of the Earth's events on even a subatomic level! And this," here Harry raised the minute marble high above his head so that it glinted in the bright sunlight,"is the key!"  
  
Hermione looked down at their feet. "I wonder who the old man was?"  
  
"Who cares? I've got the marble now. Let's get back to Hogwarts and figure this out."  
  
"Right," agreed Ron,"and we won't tell Dumbledore because we don't want to worry him even if it risks the lives of all of us."  
  
"And if Neville or any other normal halfwit happens upon us and gets suspicious, we'll simply hide the marble in a hurried manner and tell the halfwit he or she is hallucinating and not to worry about it,"added the knowledgable Hermione.   
  
To this they heartily nodded and left the dead old man to be swallowed by a sudden plothole that opened beneath him.  
  
Back at Hogwarts everyone was freshening up for dinner. The three Gryffindors entered their Common Room with much whispering and shooting furtive glances at everyone. Ron's breathing grew shaky in his nervousness. "Do you think anyone suspects anything," he asked in a loud whisper. Then he nearly Avada Kedavara'd Ginny, except he wasn't powerful enough-something he and all the students repeatedly forgot. At any rate, Ginny stomped off to the girls dorm, angry that Ron had ruined a perfect opportunity for her to seduce Harry by showing him her rapidly developing breasts.  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione huddled in the corner to discuss the mystical marble. Much time would be needed to discover how it tied into Harry's secret. Harry decided that they should conspicuously miss dinner and wander about Hogwarts with the hopes something else would inevitably happen: something that linked to the marble and, thus, to Harry's secret. Ron proposed this a capital idea and the three rushed up into the boys dormatory to get the infamous invisbility cloak. Little did they know that since Snape had worn it in the third book, the cloak had developed a psychic connection with the eerie Potions Master.  
  
So, while the three Gryffindors proceeded with their quest, Snape suddenly jumped up from the Head Table and ran out, his black robes flaring behind him. Not that anyone really noticed. Mind you, Snape was renowned for being able to hone in on the slightest sound up to twenty-five miles away. Besides, he rarely finished dinner for one reason or another. Trelawney suspected Snape hadn't had a decent meal since 1985. She then suspected Snape's paranoia had spread to suspecting the House Elves of trying to do him in.  
  
Meanwhile, the infamous trio had stumbled upon a beautiful massive door carved from a single block of Beryl. They were so far into the Hogwarts Castle they no longer registered as even existing on the Marauders Map.  
  
"Look!" whispered Harry. "The marble...it's glowing!"  
  
"It's trying to communicate with us!" Ron looked borderline basketcase over this.  
  
Hermione examined the door with her new and improved 'Harry Potter Secrets Tracker'.   
  
"There's definitely something behind this door, Harry."  
  
"Of course there is. Look at the note." Harry unstuck a piece of parchment attached to the door. "Harry Potter," he read aloud, "If you walk thru this door I shall destroy you. In simpler terms this means I shall kill you and you will cease to live. Therefore, do not walk thru this door unless you have a death wish or you are incredibly stupid and must stay true to the Gryffindor way. Sincerely yours, The Dark Lord."  
  
Ron paled,"D-do you think that m-means he-who-must-not-be-named is behind that door?"  
  
Harry pocketed the parchment. "I don't know, Ron," he stated earnestly. "It may be someone's sick idea of a joke. It could be Snape."  
  
"No it couldn't. I'm right behind you."  
  
Hermione screamed. Ron fainted. Harry went very white but was as defiant with Snape as ever. "Don't you have a life, Snape? I mean, really, doesn't following me around ever get old?"  
  
Snape looked throughly upset. "Harry, I am your father and I hate it when you talk back to me like this!"  
  
Harry put a hand across his heart and fell back against the wall. "So that's why you always treat me like dirt! Why didn't you tell me?"  
  
"And how is it possible?" interjected the logical Hermione.  
  
"Well," began Snape as the three sat down at a table, "I only slept with your mother, Lily, to get to James because I really wanted Remus but that miserable Black ruined everything. You were just a by-product of the whole mess, Harry-a constant reminder of my lust and stupidity! Now that that's cleared up-."  
  
Hermione frowned at Snape. "Now I suppose we can't go on sleeping with each other?"  
  
Harry gasped and clutched at his heart again. Ron came to and seated himself next to Hermione, who offered him a crumpet.  
  
"So...so this is *your* marble, isn't it?" demanded Harry.  
  
"Yes," said Snape solemnly. "In my youth I was a master marble player but I was forced to resign when I lost my lucky marble. You keep it, Harry. No hard feelings?"  
  
"I suppose not. I don't even care if you and Hermione continue sleeping together with each other. I think I have my eye on Ron, Ginny and Malfoy."  
  
"Ah yes...Malfoy...," mused Snape, "he's even better at rim jobs than Lucius."  
  
"Don't I know it?" Ron smirked and tossed a few buttermints in his mouth.  
  
"So who was the old man who had the marble in the first place?" Hermione wanted to know.   
  
Snape shrugged. "Just another expendable, nameless character."   
  
A loud banging on the otherside of the beautiful Beryl door startled them aplenty. "Are you quite finished in there?" called Voldemort. "I am getting very bored."  
  
"Yes! Yes!" Snape wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Well, Harry, let's see if you survive this one or not. Then Hermione and I have a date in the hospital where I shall be recovering from at least a hundred Cruciatus Curses delivered in under five minutes."  
  
Ron popped a few more buttermints in his mouth before they rushed into the next room like complete idiots. Voldemort stood in the exact center of the room with two cool-looking blackish red flames on either side of him for no other reason than aesthetic appeal.  
  
"Nice touch," commented Snape.  
  
"Thought of it myself. Now shut up, Severus, I will deliver an intensely painful, nearly fatal Cruciatus Curse your way after I give my dramatic speech. Now then, Potter-."  
  
"Actually, my last name is Snape because Severus is-."  
  
"I know that, Potter, but 'Potter' sounds better than 'Snape'. Don't interrupt me again. You're ruining the mood."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Right." Voldemort drew himself up proudly. "Countless times you have escaped unscathed, Harry Potter, but your luck has finally ended! First I shall torture your newfound father and your little friends just to anger you, amuse myself, and waste time! Then, when you foolishly attempt to best me, I will waste more time in an elaborate game of cat and mouse to further amuse my twisted ego. This will also give your friends plenty of time to pull some stupid parlor trick behind my back that ultimately results-."  
  
"Tom, I'm really craving a cigarette. Could you please-?"  
  
"Yes! Yes! Severus why did you get that girl addicted to nicotine?"  
  
"I just offered her one. I never forced the cigarette down her throat."  
  
Voldemort frowned and, laughing maniacally while still frowning, aimed his wand at Snape. "Crucio!" he intoned evilly.  
  
Snape screamed, lurched, fell to the floor, writhed with pain, groaned, clenched his hands, gasped, yelled, unclenched his hands and by all rights should have died from the strain on his heart, but of course he did not die.  
  
"God, he looks sexy when he's unjulating in agony," sighed Hermione, taking a deep drag off her cigarette. "Ron! That's your cue!"  
  
"Oh! Yeah! Damn you V-V-V-arrrrgh!" Ron proceeded to run around the room, completely out of control. Voldemort rendered him unconscious with a spell neither you nor I have ever heard of and sounds overly-contrived.  
  
"Harry!" shrieked Hermione. "Run! It's you he wants and the world must be saved! I'll hold him off until you get help."  
  
"But I can't leave you or Ron or Sn-my father! Oh daddy, I'm sorry Voldemort loves to torture you so!"  
  
"Do what she says Pot-Harry! I'll be okay. Come tomorrow I'll be carrying Hermione over the threshold of our new-OUCH! This really hurts!"  
  
Completely flustered, Harry threw the pearlescent marble at Voldemort. Naturally, this was just the thing needed to vanquish the evil Dark Lord until the realm of fanfiction conjured him anew. In less than a millisecond it was all over.  
  
"Oh Harry!" cried Hermione, trampling her beloved Snape to get a hug from the Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
Then, Dumbledore and half the school walked in to congratulate Harry and completely disregard everyone else. It was never explained how Voldemort gained access inside the school or why the mysterious room with the Beryl door existed in the first place. But it didn't matter because Dumbledore had been in the know about everything all along, and there was a big nudist wedding for Hermione and Snape, Harry and Ginny, and Malfoy and Ron. They all agreed to swap partners on a weekly basis, and all of this occured before Harry officially graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
~FIN~ 


	10. Daily Dose of Incest

Title: Daily Dose of Incest  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
  
Lucius Malfoy arrives home at one in the morning, drunk as Hagrid on a rum drinking binge. As only bad mean people get soddenly drunk, we know that Lucius is about to do a very bad thing. Cursing and muttering in an overly-stereotypical fashion, he marches upstairs into his son's room.  
  
Draco, in the meantime, has heard his father from halfway down the street. The fact that Lucius was singing "Molly Malone" at the top of his lungs probably accounts for this. Anyway, Draco is in the middle of tunneling his way out of his room when Lucius barges in quite dramatically. A moment later lightening flashes.  
  
"Dammit," he roars. "When I swing the door open and the door slams against the wall, that's the que! Slam! Que! Got it?"  
  
"Missy is sorry, master," apologizes a random house elf.  
  
Lucius proceeds ot toast Missy into a grilled cheese sandwich, then flings her out the window where the hounds await. True to canon, Draco sits placidly on the bed awaiting *his* fate. His grey eyes grow large with terror as Lucius rounds on him.  
  
"I am a sick, drunken son-of-a-bitch," slurs Lucius. "I must rape you, Draco."  
  
"No, daddy! No! Mummy, help me!"  
  
"Will you two shut up in there and let a lady get some sleep," screams Narcissa from the bedroom.  
  
"Mummy's a bitch," sighs Draco. "At least allow me to gear up for my prolonged thrashing scene, father."  
  
"Agreed," says Lucius, pulling out a cigarette and seating himself on the bed. Ooooooooh, foreshadowing! "How's school, son?"  
  
"Fine, except for Potter." Draco pulls on his kneepads and straps on his helmet. "Oh, and you were right. Trelawney's a lesbian."  
  
Lucius snorts. "Who's poking her with the dildo? Hooch or Sinistra?"  
  
"Madam Pomfrey."  
  
Lucius pulls out a flask and takes a deep drink upon hearing this.  
  
"What a fine bunch of perverts Dumbledore has assembled. Ah, well, remember that I only do this because I love you, Draco."  
  
"Yes, father. In your own twisted way, I'm sure you do."  
  
"Are you ready, then?"  
  
"Quite. Mind the kneecaps, though."  
  
Lucius responds by tackling his waifish son and pounding him to a pulp in much gruesome, gory detail. Uttering a battlecry, he proceeds to strip Draco and then give him the old in-out. It's a control thing. It's also a wizard thing.  
  
"Oh, woe is I. Nobody loves me and I'm so scared. I have such a perfect life on the outside, but on the inside I'm a broken little boy! Dammit! Did I think that out loud?"  
  
"Do you want me to come in there?" threatens Narcissa.  
  
"No, dear. Draco's pet chicken is a little giddy, that's all."  
  
"Father, you are such a liar. I hate my life."  
  
"Oh, quit griping, ya pansy! How would you like to be in Potter's shoes?"  
  
"Potter's life parallels mine in that he, too, is sexually abused and beaten. Isn't it a clever twist that I also suffer, as Potter, does at the hands of my relatives?"  
  
"Shut up, son! Would you rather be groped and sodomized by two fat males as poor Harry is every night, and sometimes right before tea?"  
  
Draco only grins. Lucius' grey eyes widen. "You sick fuck! You're even more twisted than *I* am! At least I am attractive, whereas Vernon and Dudley Dursley are abhorrent."  
  
"Different strokes for different folks," replies Draco smugly.  
  
"Draco, you disgust me," said Lucius as he continues to rape his son.  
  
"Now it is time for me to assume the fetal position and drown in my angsty thoughts," announces Draco, draping himself in a white sheet with a 450 thread count. He moves over to *the corner*. Yes, that special corner in the room reserved specifically for rich little snots who are victims of incest.  
  
"Have fun," says Lucius. "And now, I shall go and be verbally abusive to Narcissa while I flog her with various household items."  
  
"Bye, dad." Draco waves to his father, then slips into a semi-catatonic state. Actually, Draco is imagining a little scenario that involves Vernon Dursley and a pickle.  
  
Suddenly, Snape flies in through the window, wearing a big black cape and a silver thong with a diamond bow on the crotch. He hisses to expose very cheap-looking plastic vampire teeth. Draco just stares. I mean, what would you do? Forget I asked that. Ahem...  
  
"Professor...what are you doing?"  
  
Snape lowers his arms and stares curiously at Draco's thin frame draped in only a 450 thread count sheet.  
  
"This isn't Flitwick's bungalow. Damn and blast! I flew too far south. I apologize for the intrusion, Mr. Malfoy. Merlin's tits! That sounds like Narcissa is being verbally abused by Lucius while being flogged with various household objects!"  
  
"You're good, Professor."  
  
Snape merely bows, quite pleased with himself.   
  
"Well, I really must be off. I have a Death Eater's meeting to attend. There, I shall be viciously sodomized by assorted waxen items in many interesting shapes and sizes. Do tell Lucius to go easy with the Fruit Rollups this time, would you? They leave the most horrid welts on one's buttocks. Ta-ta!"  
  
Out of the window Snape flies into the night sky. Draco waves.  
  
"Goodbye! Goodbye, Professor Snape, and thank you!"  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: An odd ending, I know, but what the hell. Next up: Panties and stolen sexual torture devices. An old favorite, to be sure! 


	11. Scavenger Hunts and Satiny Surprises

"Scavenger Hunts and Satiny Surprises"  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I don't own them and I'm still flat broke from writing this perversion.  
Professor Snape burst into the Great Hall with an expression that would send most people back into osmosis.  
  
"Someone *stole* my Orgasmatron," he exclaimed dramatically.  
  
Everyone gasped. Ginny resembled Molly Weasley with a hot baked potato shoved up her ass. "Who the hell keeps on doing this," she demanded, leaping to her feet. "We still haven't found out who made off with the Wheel of Love."  
  
"A sick, deranged pervert, that's who," piped up Neville Longbottom. Everyone nodded in agreement.  
  
"Well then," said Professor Dumbledore, "I propose a scavenger hunt to recover the stolen articles of pleasure."  
  
"Let the steamy, sexual scavenger hunt begin," squeaked Professor Flitwick. A thunderous round of applause followed this statement.  
  
Students and teachers alike separated into groups and scattered throughout the castle without any strategy whatsoever. This made little difference as people changed groups whenever the whim took them. Perhaps this explained why Draco and Harry ended up in a small, "secret" basement that had previously not existed.  
  
"Nothing in here," said Harry with disappointment and turned to leave. Malfoy grabbed Harry's arm.  
  
"Wait a minute. Wait a minute," coaxed Malfoy soothingly. "You couldn't ask for a more shaggable setting, Potter. There's even a comfy-looking pallet over there in the corner."  
  
Harry shrugged. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a quickie. I wonder what's in that cupboard over there?"  
  
Malfoy rolled his silver eyes. "Twenty Galleons says the Orgasmatron and Wheel of Love are stashed in there and we, like true idiots, are about to get framed."  
  
"Well, maybe we'll get a chance at the Orgasmatron before the entire school populus rushes in as soon as one of the sexual torture devices are in my hands." So saying, Harry walked over to the cupboard.  
  
Again, Draco rolled his eyes and suddenly twitched. That weird *urge* was about to overtake him once more. Throwing caution to the wind, Draco fumbled with his robe and tossed it onto the floor, vaugly wondering why he bothered wearing any clothing at all.  
  
"Yes, Potter, I realize it's grown another inch," said Draco in response to the astounded gasp the Golden Boy emitted.  
  
"No," breathed Harry dreamily, "Look..."  
  
Draco's eyes danced and his face glowed with enraptured joy...  
  
Snape grumbled as he and Ron searched the endless corridors for signs of Snape's missing sexual toys. Ron continued his tirade of ceaseless bitching that had something to do with golden showers and an A minus.  
  
"I mean how the fuck can you get an 'A' *minus* for something like that? Either you arouse the person by peeing on him or you don't," bitched Ron angrily.  
  
"Shut up before I shove your wand up your ass, Weasley."  
  
"You'd like to do that wouldn't you, you control freak. Boy, I'd sure like to ram my fist up your ass and see how authoritive you are then."  
  
Snape stopped walking and leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest. "I've had more fists up my ass in one year than you will have in a lifetime, Weasley."  
  
"Oh yeah? Well how about my foot? Damn, you're hot, Professor! Come here!" Ron lunged at a stunned Snape who, after recovering from the initial shock, tried beating the lust-crazed Weasley away.  
  
"Stop it, Weasley! Get away! Get out from under there!"  
  
Ron Weasley had dove under the Potions Master's robes and started up Snape's skinny legs like a cat up a tree.  
  
"Weasley, I'm warning you-stop this at once," shrieked Snape as Ron's hands skedaddled up the Potion Master's thighs and rested on his narrow hips. The panic in Snape's tone only served fuel the demented Ron Weasley's sinister lust. So it *was* true that the Potions Master didn't wear undies on Thursdays.  
  
It was almost funny the way Snape's protesting snuffed out like an extinguished flame soon as Ron's soft, moist lips met their target. Severus Snape arched his back in ectasy and began to moan. He felt so...so very *glad* there were so many childeren in the Weasley clan.  
  
Hermione stood in the doorway of the "secret" basement, torn between amusement and disgust. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy, mortal enemies, were giggling like little girls as they played amongst piles of pretty pastel panties. The grabbed great armfulls of the frilly, satiny undergarments and tossed them into the air like confettii. Harry closed his eyes and fell backwards onto a mound of slippery, sensual heaven. Malfoy attempted to swim across the wavy sea of shimmery, perfumed panties, inhaling deeply as he did so.  
  
"Harry, what *are* you doing," exclaimed Hermione. "And what is that nonsense Malfoy is rubbing his nude buttocks against?"  
  
"The stuff dreams are made of, Granger," replied Malfoy. "Come in. Come in! There's plenty for all." Malfoy slowly sank into a deep pile of feminine bliss and resurfaced on the otherside of the small room.  
  
Skepticle, Hermione waded her way into the pantified abode. Making her way over to the open cupboard she paused and examined the contents at length. What she saw took her breath away: stacks upon stacks of neatly folded panties in every color of the pastel rainbow: lilac, forget-me-not blue, dainty peach, cream, ivory, the softest of pinks and pale, sage greens.  
  
"They're beautiful," whispered Hermione, trembling. Her hands reacted before her mind could catch up. Hermione reached into that magical cupboard and pulled out handfuls of silky, luxerient panties. Oh how she savored the cool, slick caress of those feats of triangular perfection against her skin! "They're beautiful,"Hermione cried and burst into tears of happiness she was so overcome with the unparalleled radiance of the panties. Harry and Malfoy smiled at one another knowingly.  
  
To be continued...  
  
A/N: Don't worry, dear reader, there's smut supreme awaiting you in the next chapter. I borrowed the Orgasmatron from the movie "Barbarella". For those of you who haven't seen it, the Orgasmatron is something like a sleeping bag attatched to an organ. One person plays different keys on the organ while the other person lies in the sleeping bag thing and gets pleasured as different tunes are played. Yes, it's a very warped movie, complete with a lava lamp monster.  
  
I also put my own twist on a certain scene from "The Great Gatsby" (see the movie for details if you haven't already). I believe the phrase "The stuff dreams are made of" comes from the Humphrey Bogart movie "Casablanca" but don't quote me on that. 


	12. Conclusion of the Panty Scavengar Saga

"Conclusion of the Panty/Stolen Sex Toys Saga"  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.   
While everyone else was searching and/or screwing throughout Hogwarts, Harry, Hermoine, and Malfoy were having a grand time in the "secret" basement. They had taken art to a higher plane by arranging the panties in perfect replicas of the various crop circles plaguing fields all across Britain. Hermione had just proposed duplicating one of Led Zepplin's album covers with creamy raspberry colored thongs, when a voice disrupted their fun.  
  
"What the hell are you doing with my panties?'  
  
The guilty party turned in the direction of the voice. There, in the doorway, stood Sirius Black, gaping at the impromptu art display. Malfoy tugged a pair of silvery-pink panties off his head to get a better view of the true keeper of the magnificant panty hoarde. Harry couldn't remember being this shocked, even when he'd figured out Dumbledore's true reason for allowing Filch to stay on at Hogwarts.  
  
"Sirius! What are you doing here? You're on the run from the Azkaban dementors and the Ministry of Magic," croaked Harry, lest we forget.  
  
"Well hell, Harry, I'm always popping up either in or around Hogwarts in these stories. Since no one is able to apparate in or out-unless, of course, she is a stunningly exquisite creature with perfect hair and tits like melons-I have to lodge somewhere...when I'm not lodged between Remus's two ass cheeks, anyway."  
  
"Damn it!" Hermione flung her wand onto the floor. "All the good ones are either dead, married, or gay."  
  
"Cheer up, Granger. Snape swings both ways, remember?"  
  
"Oh yeah." Hermione smiled again.  
  
"So...these are your panties," said Harry, trying to puzzle this out.  
  
"Yep." Sirius entered his sanctuary. "Not much, but it keeps me going."  
  
"Not much? Sirius, it's wonderful! You just don't look like the type to collect...well...women's underwear."  
  
Sirius grinned. "Harry, in my third year I earned enough money to buy my motorcycle by renting my collection out to the students, male and female, for their dates." Sirius slowly walked by a few panty cropcircles, arms clasped behind his back. 'These are quite nice. I think the three of you are onto something here."  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
"I can't believe the sexual torture devices just disappeared into thin air!" Ginny frowned as she and the other students carried boxes to some unknown nearby location I don't feel like going into detail about.   
  
McGonagall was busy directing people this way and that to set up their equipment. You are probably wondering what the hell is going on here, but you'll just have to remain confused for much longer that necessary before I disclose exactly what is happening. Anyhow, after several minutes the long corridor began to resemble something like a carnival with its stands and tents.  
  
Ron was practicing his hand job technique when Harry, Hermione, Malfoy, and Sirius came upon the bustle.  
  
"Harry! You're just in time. What are you going to do for the Fair Fundraiser? Oh, hi Sirius!"  
  
"What fair?"  
  
"To raise money for new sexual torture devices. Whoever raises the most money earns 100 points for their House and a years supply of Lockheart's Tickle-Tingly Lubricant!"  
  
"I have dibs on the panty art!" exclaimed Hermione, eyes fierce with determination.  
  
"That's fine," said Malfoy. "I know *exactly* how to earn lots of money." With a mysterious and naughty smirk, he walked off.  
  
"I hate these last minute organized functions, though you'd think by now I'd be used to them," griped Harry. "I need to think." So he took a walk to see what he could see.  
  
Sirius turned to Hermione. "Want help with that panty display? You haven't seen my sequined collection yet, have you?"  
  
Racking his brains for a unique idea, Harry walked along the corridor, drinking in the sights and sounds. You couldn't help but get an excited quiver in your stomach at all the colorful displays. What to do? What to do? Something witty yet pleasurable. Not too difficult...keep it simple... He had a multitude of chocolate from all his hospital stays, trips to Honeydukes, and whatnot. And then it hit him-OF COURSE! How simple and yet how brilliant! Harry turned and rushed towards the Slytherin Common Room.  
  
Dumbledore cleared his throat and stepped upon a small platform he'd magicked up for the occasion.  
  
"Welcome to Hogwarts first ever Fair and Fundraiser extravaganza!"  
  
The long corridor filled with cheers. Everyone was in high spirits with anticipation of the fun!  
  
"Not only will this raise enough money to replace our dearly departed debaucherous devices, but this fundraiser will provide each and every one of you with the hands on experience no amount of lecturing and textbook learning can provide. I know you will all do your best and I look forward to sampling the fruits of your creativity. Now, let the learning begin!"  
  
Everyone rushed to their stations. As this author has neglected to work out how there can possibly be customers if everyone's working at the same time we'll just play it by ear. It's been done plenty of times before. Hell, let's just forego plausibility of the plot and get right to the good stuff.  
  
One of the first set-ups on the right side of the corridor was courtesy of Colin Creevy. Colin would take nude photos of you and a loved one, doing whatever you wanted, for a Galleon a picture. He even had a few accessories like tiaras, boas, stilettos and cigarettes, to add a bit of flirtatious pizzaz.  
  
"Oh yes! That's it. Oh that's the way. Work that ass, mama," directed Colin, oogling over asses, penises, vaginas, and boobies. One Ravenclaw girl was especially imaginative: she promptly bent over and thrust her wand between her ass cheeks. The wand showered gold sequins about her buttocks. Colin was overjoyed with the effect.  
  
Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbot were demonstrating some of the finer aspects of the Creeping Lust Vines. Left to their own devices these lust-filled vines would creep up any human orifice, though they seemed to prefer females. Never fear, gentlemen. Justin Finch-Fletchley was selling serum derived from Venemous Tentaculas. Expensive stuff, but a minute amount kept one's member rock hard up to four hours *and* induced multiple orgasms in men.  
  
Pansy Parkinson, sporting a tophat; a coat-and-tails; thigh high boots; a cane, and not much else, stepped onto a small green stage with silver hangings. Directly behind her was a pavilion made of beautiful shimmering black-green fabric.  
  
"Step right up, folks, step right up," she called in a loud clear voice. "The answer to all your sexual desires resides within this erotic temple." She tapped the pavilion with her cane. "Get to know your domineering side and rape the Snape! That's right, rape the Snape-right this way. Make him moan! Make him scream! *You* are the master for five Galleons. Go ahead, treat yourself, treat a friend-rape the Snape right now. Only five Galleons, ladies and gentlemen, and you can see why he really is Head of Slytherin House. Five Galleons!"  
  
Completely Pointless Dream Sequence Courtesy of Seveurs Snape as He is Pretending to be Raped:  
  
Ron burst into the staffroom shrieking,"The Asses! The Asses are calling us!" He lingered long enough to get everyone's attention, then took off.  
  
Minerva McGonagall looked over at Madam Hooch.  
  
"Did that just happen?"  
  
Snape muttered something akin to "Weasley freaks" over his steaming cup of...decarbonated rootbeer?  
  
Filius Flitwick cleared his throat until he had Dumbledore's attentiveness.  
  
"Headmaster," he squeaked, "that's the third time this week. Shouldn't something be done?"  
  
Dumbledore's lineage grew solemn. "Has it ever occurred to any of you that the Asses *are* calling us, but we simply cannot hear them?"  
  
Snape stared at the Headmaster, entirely unimpressed and unbelieving.  
  
"And Weasley can," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"It is probable, Severus," replied Albus calmly.  
  
Snape threw his tea cup across the room and jumped to his feet, black eyes flashing.  
  
"You're only saying that because you favor Gryffindor you...you-horizontal ass crack!"  
  
End Pointless Dream Sequence  
  
Pansy was now doing an odd little dance while chanting, "Rape the Snape! Ride that snake!"   
  
A few booths over Ron was giving 10 Knut hand jobs (Kids In The Hall, anyone?). After awhile he began to wonder if it was just his imagination or if Filch really was showing up time and time again.  
  
Meanwhile, a large group had gathered around Hermione's display. They ooooh'd and aaaah'd as Sirius's panties whirled through the air forming breathtaking geometric designs. Dumbledore remarked that the combination of satin and sequins surpassed any firework display by far. Parvati and Lavender took time out from performing palmistry (in the nude, naturally) and had Sirius sign them up to rent out some of his panties for the New Years Ball Hogwarts decided to have so all underage students can fall in love and shag. It was the busiest time of the year for Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy.  
  
Remus was inspecting the assorted sand dicks Ginny had set up on a rectangular table. He was especially partial to the one Ginny had sculpted while using the Potions Master for a model. Twas Snape who had taught Ginny the craft and Ginny felt she simply must immortalize his penis in sand. She dubbed it her "inspiration piece" and refused to part with it.  
  
"It's a demo and not for sale," Ginny informed Remus.  
  
"I thought you were sore at him over losing the Wheel of Love."  
  
"I am, but that's not his penis' fault, is it?"  
  
Remus furrowed his brow. "Are those *Sirius'* panties you're wearing?"  
  
An argument would have ensued but for a loud, sultry voice that boomed, "Gentlemen and laaaaaadies, it's time for luuuuuuv chocolate!"  
  
Sexy disco music filled the hall and a mirror ball lowered of its own accord as the lights dimmed. Hagrid poked his head out of the rape pavilion.  
  
"Eh? Wot's that?"  
  
Snape crawled under him for a clear view, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. Fang followed suit.  
  
Draco Malfoy, wearing a snakeskin and leather thong and a matching pimp hat with a long purple plume, descended onto the dance floor on a swing made of Sirius's panties. Rapturous screams filled the air and it was impossible to say who was more excited: the students or the professors. Everyone tossed coins of all kinds at the sensual Slytherin as he swung his hips and did the pelvic thrust; the trademark Malfoy dong bouncing along to the beat of the music. Every so often Harry Potter, seen in the background DJ'ing the scene, would growl "luuuuuv chocolate" in a tone that would make Issac Hayes proud.  
  
The grand finale happened when Harry pulled a long cord and luscious melted chocolate poured all over Malfoy's gyrating body. Several people fainted from sheer ectasy, including Professor Flitwick.  
  
Aftermath of the Whole Thing  
  
Ginny Weasley smiled broadly as Colin took a picture of her standing beside a brand new glistening Wheel of Love. The Great Hall had been transformed into a showcase for the new sex toys purchased with the proceeds from the Fornication Fair, as everyone now called it. Since Malfoy and Harry's joint act had easily raked in the most coins the prizes: 100 House points and a years worth of Gilderoy Lockheart's Tickle-Tingly Lubricant, were distributed evenly amongst Slytherin and Gryffindor.  
  
Cocktails in hand, everyone admired the lovely sheen given off by the new spurs and shackles. Standing apart from the rest of the crowd, Severus Snape stood in the corner drinking his martini and frowning. Ginny sashayed over to him, still glowing from standing so close to the new and improved Wheel of Love.  
  
"What's the matter, Professor?" Ginny inquired, only vaguely distracted by Remus making the rounds with a large box of rubbers, shouting, "Condoms for charity! Have a condom for charity!"  
  
"Aren't you pleased about having all new sexual torture devices?"  
  
"Of course I'm pleased," snapped Snape. "I still want to know who made off with the old stash. No one was punished for the crime."  
  
Ginny sighed and rested her head against Snape's chest. "You know we'll never find out. The vital information always pales in sight of the uplifting conclusion where everybody's perfectly happy and in love."  
  
Snape grimaced. "Don't tell me *you're* in love, Miss Weasley!" He gave Ginny a wary look.  
  
"No," Ginny readily replied, "but I do know what'll cheer you up."  
  
"Not the pony," Snape growled. "That's *your* fetish."  
  
"Of course not." Ginny took the icy Potions Master's cold hand. "We're going to play the Wheelbarrow Game."  
  
For once in his wretched existence Severus Snape smiled a genuine smile of happiness.  
  
And so our story comes to a close, dear reader; new sex toys for all and a dazzling party where everyone is scantily clad at his and her best. We take our leave of the pleasant scene with an image of Dumbledore fondly recounting his "first time" to the party goers. In the doorway, a brief image of Severus Snape buck naked in a candy apple red wheelbarrow, his long lanky white legs dangling over the side, holding a decanter of brandy and a glass, joyously sings the theme song to The Smurfs while Ginny Weasley pushes full speed ahead, flits by.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: Next chapter...your guess is good as mine but it'll be a fresh story not involved with Hogwarts School of Perversion. Hey, change is good. I don't own the Smurfs. Woe is I. 


	13. Snape's Moment of Angst

Title: Snape's Moment of Angst  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.  
One evening at dinner, Snape set down his goblet and stood up to make an announcement.  
  
"Everyone," he called out. "Everyone shut up and listen to me!"  
  
Soon as the room was quiet, Snape continued: "I'm going to kill myself," he announced casually and sat back down.  
  
"Are you going to wait until we finish our dessert?"  
  
"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Allow me to explain: Due to the constant turmoil of leading a double life I shall have a complete mental breakdown at around-oh-midnight or so. After reliving all the horrible things I've done, and realizing that my health isn't what it used to be due to Voldemort's liberal use of the Cruciatus curse, I shall decide to end my pathetic life in a very slow and painful manner. Someone had best lock up Miss Granger so she won't find me on the brink of death in a corridor or at the edge of the Forbidden Forest."  
  
Both Ron and Harry brightened.  
  
"Kick ass! No test on Monday!"  
  
"You are mistaken, Weasley. Despite my being past caring about anyone or anything, the test will be right on schedule. McGonagall, or Sprout, or Madam Pomfrey will administer the test, which I have taken care to seal with a waterproofing spell due to Miss Granger's, Miss Weasley's, Potter's, and God only knows who else's boo-hooing."  
  
Albus Dumbledore heaved a gusty sigh. "I suppose I will never be able to forgive myself for not forcing you to tell me why you look so depressed. Oh the things I never see coming because I am too busy doing Fudge's job for him. I'd best tell Dobby to wash and press my funeral attire, as I will be performing the ceremony."  
  
Snape bit into a buttered roll before continuing. "Not necessarily, Headmaster. With Quantam Physics on her side, Miss Granger will inevitably stumble onto me. I think the fact she has been made Head Girl plays into this whole scenario. Anyway, whilst I am coughing out my last breath, you and Poppy pop up in the nick of time, courtesy of the plothole. You might want to bring a pack of cards because I will somehow manage to give a long, detailed account of my current state, despite my current state. Of course, all this will undoubtedly baffle Miss Granger, but she's smart so she'll figure it out."  
  
"What will you be wearing, Professor?" inquired Hermione with a naughty grin.  
  
"Miss Granger, I am surprised at you! The only redeeming quality of the entire situation will be myself clothed in my usual black attire, instead of my underwear or," Snape shuddered, "nudity."  
  
"So you won't be raped?"  
  
"No, Longbottom."  
  
"How are you going to attempt suicide," inquired Cho Chang.  
  
Snape looked remarkably thoughtful. "I haven't yet decided. Poison is the logical choice, but a knife sounds rather dramatic, don't you think?"  
  
"Don't you dare bleed on my freshly mopped floor," growled Filch, stepping forward.  
  
"We must all make allowances for Snape's mental breakdown, Argus," said Dumbledore calmly.  
  
Ron frowned. "If you want so much attention, why not do something positive?"  
  
Snape gave Ron one of his infamous superior expressions. "Now that wouldn't be any fun, would it, Weasley?"  
  
"Am I the only one who sees how pathetically warped this is?"  
  
"Quit overreacting, Ron," snapped Hermione, suddenly checking her hair in a mirror compact.  
  
"After I am magicked to the infirmary, I will undergo an excruciatingly long and unnecessary surgery. For three weeks, I will be fighting for my life while the Headmaster and Madam Pomfrey will be helpless to ease my suffering. In my state of delirium. I will believe Miss Granger, who has visited me in secret the entire time, to be my lost love who left me when I joined the Death Eaters, and I was later forced to murder. This will strike a powerful chord deep within Miss Granger, and she'll begin to like me.   
  
"During my horrendous struggle to find a reason to go on, while cursing my ineptness at suicide, Miss Granger and myself will fall madly in love. Potter and Mr. Malfoy will do likewise."  
  
"Let me guess," Ron sounded bored, "an orgy will commence late one night in the infirmery, even though you should be sleeping in your own room by the time the orgy happens."  
  
McGonagall beamed at Ron and awarded Gryffindor with 50 points.  
  
"I guess I should practice keeping my mouth shut and looking scared for the next six months," sighed Draco.  
  
"Buck up, Malfoy. There's the orgy to look forward to, don't forget."  
  
"Potter, do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to look scared and helpless-like I'm out of sorts because my father sexually abuses me and I'm afraid to tell anyone?"  
  
"Well, pretend you're madly in love with Hermione, and are horrified of your father finding out. That at least eliminates the sodomy factor."  
  
Draco sighed. "Sir, can't you resort to some other dramatic display of angst? Have you considered catatonia?"  
  
Snape snorted. "How boring do you think I am, Mr. Malfoy?"  
  
"Well...piss off Voldemort so that he disfigures you in some way. Granger's a sucker for wounded potions masters-especially if your eyes are gouged out-"  
  
"Or you're gang banged by the Death Eaters, and forced to run a gauntlet."  
  
"Longbottom, you are a pervert."  
  
"Madam Pomfrey, may I help undress Snape for the prolonged and unnecessary operation?"  
  
"Certainly not, Miss Granger! That shall be Ginny Weasley's job!"  
  
Ginny Weasley blushed as vividly as her red hair upon hearing this. Both Hermione and Ron frowned at her.  
  
"You've seen Snape naked lots of times, Hermione," insisted Ginny.  
  
Snape smirked. "Madam Pomfrey said nothing about you 'looking', Miss Weasley."  
  
"Dammit!" With a huff, Ginny sat back down and sulked.  
  
Snape shook his head. "Anyway, after all is said and done, Miss Granger and myself will announce our engagement."  
  
"Well then," exclaimed Dumbledore, clapping his hands, "I'd best tell Dobby to wash and press my wedding attire!"  
  
Filch frowned. "You won't be throwing rice and birdseed onto my clean floors!"  
  
"Now, now, Argus, it's a joyous occassion that calls for festive littering. Miss Granger will be throwing away her promising future for our misunderstood Potions Master. There will be plenty of Ogdens Fire Whiskey for all."  
  
"Hot dog!" roared Hagrid, making his first and only entrance within the story.  
  
Ron glowered. "So who the hell do I end up with since Snape bagged my best girl?"  
  
"He bagged your only girl, Weasley."  
  
"Oh go curl up in a fetal position on your bed for the next nine months, Malfoy."  
  
"Well, you can't have Potter. He's mine."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes. "Oh hell with it already! I'll shag Fred and George until I work out something. Ginny, you have your pick between Colin and Neville."  
  
Ginny only scowled down at her mashed potatoes, still upset over the hospital arrangement.  
  
"Miss Weasley, you will have to wait until the orgy to see me naked. Now quit sulking or you'll end up with Filch."  
  
"Will Filch be at the orgy as well?"  
  
"Naturally, Longbottom."  
  
Ron sank in his chair and groaned, "It's going to be a hell of a long year."  
  
~FIN~ 


	14. Sing A Song of Stupidity

The Worst Songfic of Them All  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters.  
Hermione ran into the Great Hall sobbing her eyes out.  
  
"Whatever is the matter, Hermione," inquired Harry.  
  
"Oh! Oh! Oh! My parents have conveniently died, so I am now parentless at the height of my budding sexuality!"  
  
"Aw, that's alright," said Ron. "You can come and live with me. My parents won't mind-what's another mouth to feed, right? Just think, Hermione, we'll shag every night."  
  
Harry looked confused. "Isn't Snape supposed to take her under his billowing black wing, and ultimately coerce her into having sexual intercourse with him?"  
  
"I think she just lives at Hogwarts until she graduates...right?" Added Seamus.  
  
"Oh honestly," flared Hermione. "I *have* other relatives I can live with, but this is just heartbreaking for me. I shall never be as I once was. Life is so confusing. I am no longer a child, but not yet a woman." Hermione sighs and dramatically draws her hand across her eyes.  
  
Isn't life so funny?  
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!  
Now I'll tell a story...  
La! La! La! La! La!  
  
Snape looked up from carving his roast mutton. "Where the devil is that annoying voice coming from?"  
  
"There's too much teenage angst going on for me to handle," shrieked Hermione. "I hate the world!"  
  
Stop the world, I wanna get off!  
Screaming won't do you any good.  
Especially when Snape's trying to eat his dinner.  
This doesn't rhyme, but that doesn't matter.  
Hey, that rhymed.   
Oh yeah-doens't life suck?  
  
Ron rushed over to Hermione and took her in his arms. "Hermione...I love you!"  
  
"Oh Ron! You are my eternal soulmate!"  
  
Ron got down on one knee. "Will you marry me and bear my children?"  
  
Harry choked on his cornbread. "What the fuck is going on here? You're not even mentally capable of rationalising the true concept of marriage, let alone-."  
  
True luuuuuuuuuuuuv!  
Raphsody of dreeeaaaaaaams!  
Crickets are nice, aren't they?  
Listen to the treeeeeeeees!  
  
Chewing his roast mutton, Snape glared up at the enchanted ceiling, where the enchanted voice appeared to be coming from.  
  
"Oooooh, this is sooooooo romantic," breathed all girls between the ages of 10 and 17."  
  
"WAIT," shouted a voice stricken with the very depths of emotion. Draco Malfoy was on his feet, his face betraying the inner conflict within him. "Harry...I-I-I LOVE YOU! I don't want to be a mean old Slytherin any longer! I-I want to dance, and pet furry animals, and wear pretty things! My daddy *rapes* me," he proclaimed before bursting into tears.  
  
Torn, twisted, tortured!  
AGONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
The black cloth of my mind  
is ripped like a vintage gunnysack!  
Death! Die! Dead! Yeah!  
  
Snape hurriedly swallowed his roast mutton with a large swig of pumpkin juice, and bared his uneven teeth at the enchanted ceiling. "Will you shut up?"  
  
Anger! Rage! Torture!  
The story of our liiiiiiives!  
Malfoy's upset! So's Snape!  
Let's rob an ice cream truck!  
Show society who we *really* are!  
  
Draco blinked back tears while insisting he wasn't angry at the moment, just mentally scarred for life.  
  
"Having sex with Potter is the only thing that will make it all better!"  
  
Harry seriously doubted he was on planet Earth at this point.  
  
"Are you all listening to yourselves? This is madness! I'm the only one with the right to bitch about my life."  
  
No paper mache sunshine for me, baby.  
The toilet's all crumbled to hell.  
Donkeys are bellowing at me.  
Why won't they leave me alone?  
  
Draco completely lost it, and ran over to comfort Harry, who was too dazed to protest. Somehow, Draco's special Malfoy touch worked its electric magic, and Harry suddenly felt aroused. The more he thought about it, the more Harry realized he wanted to feel Draco inside of him. Hormones completely drowned out his feelings of sorrow and loss. Hey, this happens a lot at Hogwarts, don't ya know? Harry Potter felt the overwhelming urge to...SHAG!  
  
Ass smackies! Ass smackies, oh yeah!  
Stomp a Christmas Tree and get on down!  
Fire! Fire! Run! Now!  
This is complete nonsense, but so are all song lyrics inserted into fanfiction for the sake of-.  
  
*record skips*  
  
Snape has discovered the true source of the unbelievably irritating music and acts accordingly. He seizes the record and smashes it to bits, whereupon he proceeds to stamp on the pieces while yelling, "The roof! The roof! The roof is on fire! We don't need no water! We don't need-!"  
  
"Severus, do control your rage," interjected Dumbledore.  
  
Snape ceases all stamping and stands there, breathing hard. Fortunately, his angry reaction has very positive results: everyone stops behaving like morons from outer space, and more like students.  
  
Draco began taunting Neville. Hermione picked up her Arithmancy book and began to read. Ron and Harry discussed the upcoming Quidditch game. Yes, all was well until Dumbledore arose and announced the upcoming talent show. But that's another story.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: I make no apologies for the sudden change of verb tense. Yes, I sort of took from a certain scene out of the movie Mystery Men. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about. At any rate, I don't own the lyrics to "the roof is on fire" song, and, no, I don't know the name of the band who does. Nor do I care. 


	15. Films and Fornication

"Films and Fornication"  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all so check with her.  
  
"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Miss Weasley!"  
  
"What the hell for?"  
  
"For helping Christy Underall with her potion."  
  
"Who's Christy Underall?"  
  
"I don't know! I made it up because God doesn't like you, and down in these dungeons, I am the closest thing to God there is!"  
  
"And a greasy one at that," muttered a brave Gryffindor.  
  
Snape continued to slither about the room while Ginny Weasley fumed. How dare Snape be so unfair to her! He did the same damn thing to Hermione whenever she helped Neville. Professor Snape must be a sexist! I suppose what happens next is inevitable. Ginny Weasley slammed down her vial and glared up at Snape. Then, in front of everyone, she told him off! What a red hot little badass she was! Naturally, everyone was shocked at Ginny's outburst. Fortunately, Snape had grown quite used to cute little girls screaming at him in public about his unsavory attitude.  
  
"Detention, Miss Weasley! See me after class. Alright, who's the smart ass who stuffed Creevey into his cauldron?"  
  
Using Colin as a plot device, the author has cleverly made the rest of potions class zoom by as everyone tried to help Colin out of his cauldron. Nervous, but still defiant, Ginny stayed after class to await her inevitably steamy fate. Now that's suspense for ya! I just can't wait to see what happens next! It's such a *mystery*!  
  
Snape glared down at Ginny in a sexy Gothlike fashion that the youngest Weasley couldn't help but notice. But wait-that couldn't be right because Ginny hates Snape. He is a mean bastard. Yeah.  
  
"If you ever talk to me that way again, Miss Weasley, blah, blah, blah. Your turn."  
  
Ginny clenched her fists and began, "You're a sleezy, unfair, cruel man with an utter contempt for your fellow man! You ought to be forced to go to charm school! I'm bad ass Ginny Weasley, and don't you forget it, mister!"  
  
Young Ginny looked astonishingly beautiful when angry. This must be love, but Snape couldn't dare show it. Not yet. No, there needed to be another 20 chapters of bickering and borderline groping before the two give into their passion.  
  
Snape sighed. How he loathed these OOC romances.  
  
"Oh, Ginny, do not yell at me for I am lonely. I am so very lonely. I love you," he said, monotone.  
  
Because Ginny was a sultry, naughty, fiery, good-looking young girl with a killer body and nice boobies, she lifted her skirt and shows Snape the tattoo of Satan's bookend on her tight ass. Snape drooled. After all, he *did* like the lecherous, horny older man bit. Not to be outdone, he shows young Ginny his impressive package and lights a cigarette. Ginny grinned. Then, Ron walks in and ruins everything.  
  
"You pervert," Ron yelled at the Potions Master. "What are you doing to my little sister?" Ron seized Ginny's hand and led her out of the dungeon.  
  
Now that the opposing force has been introduced into the story, Professor Severus Snape sprawls onto his desk where he proceeds to eat cornchips and masturbate.  
  
"Uh...professor, can I get some help here?" calls Colin from his cauldron.  
  
In Headmaster Dumbledore's office, Dumbledore is chain smoking and watching pornos with Harry when Ron barges in.  
  
"Do you know what Snape just did? He-hey! Is that 'Behind the Green Door'?"  
  
"Yes," reply both Harry and Dumbledore.  
  
Ron pulls up a chair and proceeds to critique the porno on a pad.  
  
"I like 'Deep Throat better'," says Harry.  
  
Meanwhile, Draco has discovered the joys of incest. He's smart enough to realize just how sexy he and Lucius must look while doing the nasty. Better still, Lucius sneaks into Draco's dorm once a week because he "loves" Draco. Due to Lucius Malfoy's traumatic childhood, he needs this twisted form of release. Indeed, poor Lucius' only happy childhood memory is going to Captain D's seafood restaurant, and reaching into the cardboard treasure box for a sucker. That and the chocolate cake. Captain D's had the best chocolate cake. Enough digression. To symbolize their everlasting father/son bond, both Lucius and Draco got their genitalia pierced. Isn't that nice?  
  
And now for Hermione's big decision. Will she ruin her promising career for Ron, or will she become the next queen of Crackwhore Magazine? Yes, boys and girls, Hermione's sumptuous body is twice as nice as Ginny's because she's older. And she's bloody brilliant to boot! How about that?!? It is oh-so-nice to read about young people who never concern themselves about weight gain or acne. Okay, so there's the occassional Draco or Harry anorexia/bulemia fic with a nice sexual assault on the side, but we're talking about Hermione. She has a major dilemma on her hands. She loves Ron because Harry's turned out to be a real slut, and that's bad.  
  
Ron interrupts Hermione's musing in the library and asks her if she wants to be in his directorial debut.  
  
"It's a delicious porno entitled 'Scrotums for Hire',"says Ron.  
  
"I love you!" screams Hermione, flinging her arms around him. Ron's da man!  
  
One night, Ginny decides to be very naughty and sneak into Professor Snape's romatically goth bedroom, complete with black satin sheets and Stevie Nicks backdrop. Ginny wants to watch the much older professor undress. Tee hee! Right on cue, Snape walks in and proceeds to disrobe. From behind the conveniently placed green curtain, Ginny grows very aroused as Snape does a regular little striptease minus the music. He's pale and very thin, but my-oh-my he has a nicely toned body. Everyone and his friggin moosecow has a nicely toned body at Hogwarts. I'll bet Dumbledore's body is more nicely toned than mine! Oh yeah, Snape's dick is nicely sized, too.  
  
With an insane shriek, Ginny rushes from behind the green curtain at the astounded Snape. Cheesy 70's porno music begins to play. Suddenly, Hermione enters the chamber wearing a sexy red and gold teddie.  
  
"Oh!" she says, "Whatever shall I do? My best vibrator has gone missing. Who could have stolen it? Whatever shall I do? I'll just sit here on this bed and peel down the top half of this teddie to cool my nipples. Ah, much better! If only I had my vibrator."  
  
Someone swings in through the window that should not be there. A second someone descends from the ceiling. A third someone crawls out from under the bed. They are Harry, Ron and Professor Remus Lupin. Hermione gasps and sits with her legs spread wide apart.  
  
"What are you doing in my bedroom? What do you want? Oh, go away!"  
  
"Scrotums for Hire, ma'am," says Harry, handing Hermione a card.  
  
"We heard about your missing vibrator, we're here to help," says Ron.  
  
"When your vibrator's on the fritz or your man can't get his rocket off the launchpad, call us," says Lupin.  
  
"Colin, are you getting this," asks Ron.  
  
Everyone looks over at a cauldron with a video recorder sticking out of it.  
  
"Si."  
  
"A porno," breaths Snape, "I've always wanted to be in one."  
  
"Me too," chimed Ginny.  
  
"What luck," says Ron, "We are ready to film the group orgy scene."  
  
At this moment, Lucius and Draco walk in. Lucius is wearing high heels, fishnets, a garter belt, black underwear, a haltertop and an leather jacket with chains. Draco is wearing leather chaps and a smile.  
  
"We are the Vibrating Bandits," announced Lucius, whacking his left heel with his cane. "We are from the planet Cunnilungus, and are on a mission to steal all of Earth's vibrators so we can control the female population and make them our slaves. This is my faithful servent, Patsy."  
  
Draco smiles. "That's right, master. We are assembling all of Earth's stolen vibrators to make one enormous Sonic Vibrator. With this Sonic Vibrator we shall control the sexual passions of the universe."  
  
"Paradox is to be mine!" exclaimed Lucius, whacking his left heel with his cane yet again. "Oh! Oh!" Lucius grabbed his crotch, "I'm receiving a message from the mothership via my penis. Bend over, Patsy. I need to plug in for transmission."  
  
"Not so fast," snarled Snape. "I will not allow you to deplete the Earth's supply of vibrators to control the women. Ginny, we must copulate to stop the evil Cunnilungians!"  
  
"And I will help," says the brave and selfless Hermione.  
  
"Leave these Cunnilungian scum to us!" shouts Lupin.  
  
"Scrotums for Hire!" yells Harry.  
  
"We must unite our nutsacks for maximum power," announces Ron.  
  
"Then let us join in the orgy," decides Harry, and he disrobes.  
  
At the Grand Premier of Ron's Porno...  
  
Dumbledore wiped a tear from his eye.   
  
"Wonderful, Mr. Weasley. All of you shall receive the Golden Phallus award for this masterpiece!"  
  
And so love prevails between Ginny and Snape; Ron and Hermione; Lucius and Draco; and Harry with everyone because he's Harry Potter, the Boy Who Shagged. Cue cheesy 70's porno music.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: Kudos to those of you who caught the Rocky Horror and Holy Grail references. Crack Whore Magazine is the brainchild of the creators of South Park. Thanks to those who love good twisted perversion when they read it! 


	16. Hogwarts School of Horrific Plotlines

Title: Hogwarts School of Horrific Plotlines  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
Hermione walked into the Great Hall and shouted, "Hey everybody, look at me! I'm back, and I'm the new Transfiguration professor since old McGonagall's conveniently kicked the bucket."  
  
"Yes," replied Dumbledore sadly. "She walked right into a deadly Avada Kadavra curse. The perpetrator is still at large. Oh what trying times these are."  
  
"Um-yes." Hermione cleared her throat and beamed anew. "Anyway, check out my new, pretty feminine, form fitting red dress."  
  
"It goes lovely with your glossy curls, my dear."  
  
"Why thank you, Professor Flitwick."  
  
"Where are your robes?" demanded Snape.  
  
"Neville ate them," replied Hermione, seating herself at the Head Table. "So, you sexy Snape, you. Let's shag!"  
  
"Let's not." Snape frowned down at his undercooked meatloaf.  
  
Dumbledore arose. "Your attention please! I would like to remind everyone that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are dead. Also, Miss Granger is free to shag anyone over the age of sixteen, though she generally prefers much older men." Here, Dumbledore's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled. Snape choked on his undercooked meatloaf and felt ill. He suddenly missed McGonagall terribly.  
  
Just then, Ron ran in with none other than the famous Harry Potter.  
  
"You're not dead, then? There is no God!" exclaimed Snape, sinking into a deep depression.  
  
"We just escaped Voldemort's evil clutches with our very lives! We are changing our identities to add flavor to the plot. From now on, I shall be Sniggerneous Elsum." Ron bowed then pointed to Harry.  
  
"And I am Pendarvis."  
  
"Pendarvis who?" Dumbledore wanted to know.  
  
Harry shrugged. "Just Pendarvis. Oh, and now we go around in disguise." Harry put on a pair of aristocratic wire frame glasses. Ron donned a pair of black sneakers.  
  
"Ta da!"  
  
Everyone applauded, except for Snape, who buried his face in his hands and rubbed his temples.  
  
"Fifty points to Gryffindor," awarded Dumbledore with bravado. "Now, let us eat!"  
  
Harry and Ron seated themselves near Hermione and the Headmaster.  
  
"Funny thing about You-Know-Who," said Ron, picking up a fork, "he is rather fond of rolling about on tarps covered with cooking oil."   
  
Harry nodded in earnest agreement. Snape's meatloaf churned in his stomach.  
  
"My panties are too tight," declared Hermione, pulling them off and tossing them aside. The panties landed on Hagrid's head. Hagrid continued to dig into his spotted dick with much fervor. Appearently, he hadn't noticed, or didn't care, or liked the feeling of red lace panties on his head. "Now I have a chill. Professor Snape, may I sit on your lap?"  
  
"Certainly not, Miss Granger!"  
  
"May I?" inquired Flitwick in a small voice.  
  
"No!"  
  
"A song," burst Ron suddenly. "A song! Oh please, Headmaster Dumbledore! Twas ever so gloomy down in Voldermort's private pleasure chambers."  
  
"His floating mattress was no picnic either," muttered Harry.  
  
"Very well," agreed Dumbledore good-naturedly. He waved his wand and began:  
  
I love silk sockies  
  
Filled with big, thick lockies!  
  
"What's a lockie," interrupted Hagrid.  
  
"Use your imagination," replied Dumbledore.  
  
Snape spat out his lukewarm chicken noodle soup and regarded the Headmaster in horror.  
  
"Go on," urged Hermione. "I like it!"  
  
"I feel sick," said Snape.  
  
"Oh hush, and let the Headmaster continue."  
  
The importance of socks cannot be denied.  
  
I buy them by the bushel, one hundred at a time!  
  
They just seem to be made for certain men's endowments.  
  
Once I tried nylons, but Minerva wouldn't allow it!  
  
Oooooooh, I love to stuff them down my pants-  
  
"You wear pants?"  
  
"Shhh, Harry!"   
  
"It's Pendarvis"  
  
"Oh whatever!"  
  
The electric feel of wool against my *CENSORED* puts me in a trance!   
  
"Of course, this is strictly off the top of my head, you understand," added the Headmaster quickly.  
  
"I think it's brilliant." stated Harry with a smile.  
  
"Hear! Hear!" yelled Ron, banging his fists on the table.  
  
"'ermione? Are these yer panties?"  
  
"Yes. You keep them, Hagrid."  
  
Hagrid blushed and thrust the red panties inside his coat pocket. Snape got to his feet.  
  
"If you'll excuse me, Headmaster. I believe I'll retire for the evening."  
  
"Not yet, Severus! It is time for the grand unveiling!"  
  
"What grand unveiling?"  
  
"This!"  
  
Dumbledore tore off Snape's robes.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Cornelius Fudge, "That's my man bra! Lucius, I thought I told you to guard it with your life."  
  
Lucius blushed. "Yes, well...there was a slight complication that demanded Severus' assistance."  
  
"Oh hell!" Snape took off the man bra and flung it to the floor. "Lucius was at the wall holes again, and-"  
  
"Shut up," hissed the debonair blond, leaping to his feet.  
  
"Time for another unveiling," called Dumbledore, seizing Lucius' robes.  
  
RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
"My nipple clamps," shouted Harry.  
  
"My word," gasped Hermione. "So tis true about the trademark Malfoy dong."  
  
"Oooooooh!" squealed a fifth year girl. "Can I touch it?"  
  
Snape's jaw dropped. No one had asked to touch *his* staff of power.  
  
Just then, Draco decided to grace everyone with his presence. All great reunions happen in the Great Hall, or in the hospital ward, but I digress...Draco leapt atop the Head Table and held up his hands.  
  
"Voldemort has been vanquished," he triumphantly announced.  
  
"How is it so?" Hermione wanted to know.  
  
"He beheld the magnificance that is my ass and was no more."  
  
"Uh, how did You-Know-Who get a glance of your ass, Malfoy?" asked Ron.  
  
Draco took a drink of pumpkin juice and continued, "The dark lord saw fit to spank my marvelous ass for my insolence. I simply could not bring myself to don a sequined catsuit and beat him with the tail."  
  
Snape clutched his stomach. "Too much information," he groaned.  
  
"Well then," said Dumbledore, "This calls for a celebration!"  
  
"Gang bang!"  
  
"No! No! Not yet, Hagrid. First, the socks."  
  
Dumbledore clapped his hands, summoning Dobby the house elf, who brought forth a big basket of assorted socks. Dumbledore drooled. Hermione tittered insanely. Snape shuddered.  
  
"I suppose we can put our robes back on," he stated, tying a bright yellow sash around his torn black robes to hold them shut.   
  
Lucius continued to stand in the nude.  
  
'Show off,' thought Snape, tying the yellow sash in a pretty double bow around his slender waist.  
  
Meanwhile, Fudge crawled across the floor and retrieved his man bra or bro, as they are fashionably called, whilst Hagrid attempted to play catscradle with Hermione's lacey panties.  
  
"A game!" cried Ron. "We must have a game!"  
  
Everyone took up the chant. Dumbledore smiled.  
  
"We shall play 'Stuff the Wizard's Pants Silly With Socks'".  
  
"Hooray!" shouted Lucius and Draco, jumping up and down, dongs bouncing likewise.  
  
Harry frowned. "How do you play that?"  
  
"It's simple, Harry. I'll stand here while everyone stuffs all these socks down the front of my pants."  
  
"Then what?"  
  
"Then," continued Dumbledore, "I become highly aroused and disrobe people at random."  
  
"All right then." Harry picked up a maroon sock.  
  
"So that's where ally my maroon socks went," exclaimed Ron.  
  
"Too true, my dear Sniggerneous."  
  
"Then let us eat much fruit and watch the sexual perversion, Malfoy."  
  
Hermione furrowed her brow. "Malfoy, you weren't here when Ron and Harry gave their new identities. How do you know that Ron's new name is Sniggerneous?"  
  
"The Malfoy dong knows all, Granger. Now shut up and let Sniggy and I eat our luscious pomegranates."  
  
"Oh blow it out your splendid ass, Malfoy," huffed Hermione.  
  
A random student walked by. "Have a sock".  
  
"I don't want a sock! I want Snape for a seat warmer."  
  
Snape laughed a terrible laugh. "You'll have to catch me first, Miss Granger."  
  
The two began a game of chase throughout the grand castle.  
  
"No! No! Not that one! The yellow one with the green trimming will do quite nicely," said Dumbledore to a third year witch.  
  
As the evening drew to a close, the front of the Headmaster's pants positively bulged with an abundance of socks. Twas really quite obscene looking. The students giggled like the children they were as they darted about the Great Hall, each one a potential victim of Dumbledore's disrobing fetish. It was rather like a game of tag, only naughtier.  
  
Hagrid had knit Hermione's lacey red panties into a clever red beret, which he proudly sported at a coquettish angle on his bushy head. Fudge's man bra now adorned the chandalier conjured into existence for mere convenience of plot. However, Harry's prized nipple clamps (said to have been used by Merlin himself) at least that's what the antique nipple clamps claimed, were being put to good use by Filch and Madam Pince.  
  
Snape would have had the perfect hiding spot from the slightly chilled Hermione, but at the last minute Lucius and one other snuck into the room. Malfoy senior, in a generous mood, was giving Minerva McGonagall a free sample of the trademark Malfoy dong. Horrified a the noises he heard, Snape crawled out from under the bouncing bed and sprinted out the door, not daring to look back.  
  
In the end, Hermione cornered the Potions Master in the third corridor just shy of the Advanced Arithmancy classroom. Snape sighed, fully resigned.  
  
"Very well, Miss Granger, you may sit on my-"  
  
Hermione promptly tackled the grouchy, greasy-haired git and decided to give his trumpet a blast or two. Indeed, the event added an extra chapter to Hogwarts: A History as the only time in the history of the school that Severus Snape awarded Gryffindor House points. A week after the incident, he swept about the castle with a dirty smirk firmly implanted on his pale face.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: Isn't that nice? Oh, a few of you wanted to know my sex. I am a 25-year-old single white female. See, women can be naughty too. Anyway, there's more where this came from. Stay tuned for more twisted perversion! 


	17. It's Showtime!

Title:   
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
"And I am pleased to announce," said Dumbledore, "that the return of Professor Lupin shall be celebrated with a talent show."  
  
The Great Hall went wild with applause.  
  
"Really Headmaster, you shouldn't have. I am very grateful."  
  
"Not at all, my dear Remus. After all, what are the chances of your missing another important dose Wolfsbane potion and putting the children in danger? Even so, all present would rather be torn to shreds by a werewolf than endure an entire schoolyear with some half Veela bimbo spouting out bits of useless poetry while attempting to convince us of her unsurpassable Auroring skills."  
  
"Yes," said McGonagall. "Everyone loves you, Lupin. That's why, despite the parents' and the Ministry's objections, we brought you back."  
  
"Great! Now, about those new robes-"  
  
"Nonsense! Your threadbare robes are all part of your charm. When they fall off, we have a new set of rags waiting for you. And no hair dye either. Those gray streaks add to your vulnerable appearance."  
  
"If you're sure, Headmaster. Merlin, I'm such a pushover. Neville has more gumption than I do. Why, hello, Severus. I just noticed you shooting daggers at me with your mysterious black eyes."  
  
"I hate you."  
  
"I feel your anguish, Severus. Well, I'm off to bed. Hopefully, I won't collapse on the way. Good night, children."  
  
"Good night, Professor Lupin," chorused the students, then dug into their dinner.  
  
"Oh golly gee whiz wow, a talent show! Are you going to enter, Hermione?"  
  
"Of course not, Ron. I'm too smart for such nonsense. Oh, by the way, did you know I'm a great singer?"  
  
"And I'm practicing to be one of the next Solid Gold Dancers," exclaimed Ginny.  
  
"What about you, Ron? What can you do besides fart the National Anthem backwards," inquired Harry, salting his roasted potatoes.  
  
"Well, I have this really kickass Goth alter ego named Torvald, who plays a wicked electric violin."  
  
"Wow! I think I'll display my cup stacking abilities."  
  
"Harry...you suck."  
  
"Just kidding! I can sing just like Justin Timberlake."  
  
"Oooooh," breathed Ginny. "I'm not supposed to know when he is, but I do! Maybe I can dance while you sing. We'll be a great act, Harry!"  
  
"Too cool! We're so Americanized it's sickening."  
  
"What about costumes? You must have brought some snazzy, sequined leather and high heeled boots for an occassion such as this."  
  
"Good thinking, Seamus. I just can't wait to thrust my overly-developed physical attributes at my fellow schoolmates. Dumbledore's really become lenient in his old age."  
  
Two tables over, the Slytherins were busy planning their reinactment of Moulin Rouge.  
  
"Great idea, Draco," trilled Pansy. "Despite all our tough anti-Muggle campaigning, we know an original idea when we hear it."  
  
"Naturally, no one would ever think of this in a thousand years. So, who's going to sing 'Lady Marmalade'?"  
  
"Uh, me?"  
  
"No, Crabbe, you'll just stand in the background the entire time."  
  
"Uh, okay, Draco."  
  
"Wow, Draco, Crabbe has more air time than Hufflepuff'll get," said Millicent Bulstrode.  
  
"I know. Oh, and Millicent, be sure to put a bag over your head before taking the stage, and pull that corset extra tight so those fantabulous breasts look ready to burst."  
  
"I wonder if we should ask Cho Chang to be in our little production. She has the looks for it," stated the ever androdynous Blaise Zabini.  
  
"Fuck no! She'll probably do some artistic nude posing, Ravenclaw that she is, but we've got her beat because we'll have choreography." Draco hastily scrawled more stage directions across a piece of parchment. "Blaise, I think you should wear your hair in a mullet so people won't fret over your sex too much."  
  
"Righto, Draco!"  
  
"Is Snape going to be in this?"  
  
"No, Dumbledore will undoubtedly force him to don feminine attire and sing some stupid shit like 'Barbie Girl' or some equally bubblegummy girl song," grumbled Draco.  
  
"If we must have comic relief, why not have Longbottom moon McGonagall?"  
  
"That's just strange."  
  
"Well, it's at least original."  
  
Later that night...  
  
Professor Severus Snape was pacing his bedroom floor. Because of all this excitement, he was having an acute attack of insomnia. Then again, Snape hasn't slept properly since 1982. Those dunderheads thought he was going to wear pink and stumble his way through Christina Aquilera. Hah! Wait till they got a look at the *real* Severus Snape. He'd put off his complete makeover for far too long... A knock on the door distracts Snape's supermodel ambitions.  
  
"Who is it?"  
  
"Wolfie."  
  
"Lupin! I told you to never use my cutesy pet name for you again! Our blasphemous love affair was twenty-two years ago. Get over it."  
  
"Aw come on, Blackie! Must. Resist. Naive. Innocent. Charm. Of. Wolfie-I mean Lupin! Go away!"  
  
"I brought the leash."  
  
"Damn you," whispered Snape dramatically swept across the room to unbolt the door.  
  
Lupin smiled warmly at the greasy Potions Professor. Oh, the Gryffindor bastard! He was wearing that oversized white T-shirt-the one with the slits in all the right places. At any rate, Snape looked equally seductive in his floor length black satin dressing gown and black stiletto heels. Isn't crossdressing Snape a classic?  
  
"I suppose it is entirely by chance that you are dressed this way, Severus?"  
  
Snape actually smiled. "Come in and I'll tell you all about my plan," he purred, pulling Remus into the *real* Chamber of Secrets.  
  
The very next day, Dumbledore was having a rather heated argument with Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"You may not enter the talent show, Lucius. You are not employed under Hogwarts."  
  
"I was a student here! I demand that you make an allowance!"  
  
"If I do so, then I will be forced to admit any talentless hack who stumbles into my office. Can you not see where this may lead? Cornelius Fudge could take the stage! The children must be protected."  
  
Lucius got one of those infamous snooty looks.  
  
"I suppose that is why Remus Lupin is once again on your payroll list?"  
  
"Actually, the return of Lupin is part of my master plan to make Severus discover his sensitive side and come to terms with his dark and unhappy childhood. Besides, Remus is much cheaper than a psychiatrist."  
  
"And how does having a talent show work into this?"  
  
"Oh that." Dumbledore waved the idea aside. "I thought the children would have a good time getting in touch with their sexuality. Hormones must continue to rage at Hogwarts. You know the prophecy, Lucius."  
  
The blond solemnly nodded. "If hormones stop raging at Hogwarts, the school will fail and all fanfiction surrounding the Harry Potter characters will cease."  
  
"And that must never happen, Lucius. Where would we be without all those steamy little stories void of all plot and sensibility?"  
  
"Well then, you must let me participate in the talent show. It is vital to the stability of the school."  
  
"Sorry, but there's not enough room for you in the plot, Lucius. You may sit in the audience and leer at Dobby, which will more than help."  
  
Lucius angrily shook his sexy cane at the Headmaster.  
  
"This is nothing more than a cheap editing trick to allow more time for Snape's big makeover!"  
  
"Well surely you knew, Lucius-Severus only makes himself ugly to keep the little schoolgirls at bay. Did you know that he can also do the splits?"  
  
"Doesn't this conflict with his relationship with Lupin? Severus is always the ugly misunderstood ass that Lupin alone can love because he is such a kindly, selfless soul."  
  
"Does it matter? Snape turns out to be a real hottie. Anyway, it is time for the show to begin."  
  
"Laaaadies and Gentlemen," announced Gilderoy Lockhart, king of hosting all events great and small. "Put your hands together for the tightest asses and grooviest, swashbuckling hip shaking to be witnessed since my movie debut in 'Loveslaves of Azkaban'! First on the floor tonight is...Neville Longbottom? What the bloody hell is this shit? Longbottom never gets an stagetime. Oh well, here he is." Lockhart exits, muttering.  
  
Neville takes the stage with his only true friend, his pet frog, Trevor. Neville stumbles on his way to the microphone. The audience snickers.   
  
"I-I-"  
  
"Great act, Longbottom," shouts a sneering voice.  
  
Neville resolves to be brave. "I don't have any talent. I just wanted to show you all something."  
  
Neville waves his wand at Trevor. Trevor is no more. Instead, there is standing a tall voluptous blonde with breasts like watermelons.  
  
"Well why do you think I was so obsessed with Trevor? I get more ass than any of you! I'm pimpdaddy Longbottom. Hear me roar! Come on, Trevor, let's go smack that tight ass of yours."  
  
"Yes, Daddy Warbucks," squeaks Trevor, obediently following Neville off the stage.  
  
The audience sits agape with shock. Eventually, Lockhart returns.  
  
"Merlin's chastity belt that's just wrong. And now, give a warm round of applause for Miss Hermione Granger, who originally wasn't going to enter even though she can sing like Shirly Mason. Be sure to pay special attention to Miss Granger's MTV slutwear."  
  
Hermione forcefully takes the stage in a black leather dominatrix outfit. The boys howl with lust. The girls glare with jealousy. Dumbledore shudders with excitement.  
  
"I am a jolly bad elf," he whispers, eyeing the whip in Hermione's left hand.  
  
After her seven and a half minute song about sex, Hermione leaves and goes straight to the library to study for her Arithmancy test.  
  
When the audience has more or less calmed down, Ron Weasly, a.k.a Torvald, with spiked hair, combat boots, and black lipstick, proceeds to do a wicked number on his electric violin, pausing every so often to shriek "death" any number of ways until he exhausts the thesaurus of synonyms.  
  
Next up is Slytherin Rouge, with Draco himself singing "Lady Marmalade" in a hip leather outfit. Pansy tries her hardest not to sneeze what with her feather boa, feather hair ornament, feather peacock tail, feather earrings-aw hell, she looks like a turkey slut. Besides, there's not enough baritone in the chorus. The whole thing sounds like chipmunks on crack. However, because this is fan fiction, they reinact the entire production with flying colors, and plenty of "Oh, be naughty! Be naughty!" cried throughout.  
  
"And now for Harry Timberlake and his bitch-I mean, dancer, Ginny Weasley!"  
  
Que strobe lights and a fast, funky beat. Harry sings a moving love song while Ginny, in a psychadelic cage, does a thousand different versions of the pelvic thrust. We have yet to see one female performer who wants to be respected for her intellect though appearently none of them have any. As we all know, it is every female student's ambition to be a sexual object for boys to toy with and discard like used Kleenex. But the best is yet to come!  
  
Lockhart douses himself with ice cold water and loosens his collar.  
  
"Finally, Professor Snape singing 'What a Girl Wants' while wearing a cute Little Bo Peep outfit. Oh, this humor will be the death of me!"  
  
Abruptly, Duran Duran's "Girls on Film" starts to play and the stage transforms into a catwalk. Out struts Professor Snape in tight black pants, black leather boots and a black shirt unbuttoned all the way down, exposing his pale, suddenly overly toned chest and impossibly perfect sixpack. His once sallow skin is now porcelain white, his greasy hair is suddenly six inches longer and gleaming rainbow highlights as the spotlight reflects its lustrous sheen. The crowd sways.   
  
Not only does Snape look ten years younger, his prominent hooked nose is now merely aqualine, his crooked teeth straight and a gleaming pearly white. The crowd oooh's and ah's as Snape takes off his leather trenchcoat and lovingly drapes it behind one shoulder. More erotic than "Deep Throat"! More intense than "Behind the Green Door"! You will cream your pants when you behold the true identity of Severus Snape! Move over Antonio Banderas and Richard Grieco. Snape's looks put Johnny Depp in a pirate costume to shame.  
  
Whoa there! Snape *is* wearing a pirate costume! Oooooh that ruffled shirt! Those devilishly ugly turned handsome features! Lupin is one luck son of a bitch, for Snape has given his heart to the dirt poor lycanthrope forevermore. Those long trim legs glide with such masculine feline grace! Flitwick is now foaming at the mouth and gurglin oddly in his throat. There is little more than a puddle where McGonagall once sat. Lucius is so aroused he jumps and makes out with the nearest person, who just happens to be his son's Spontaneous Sex-Changing Inflatable Doll, one of the Lockhart edition.  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore proudly looks on as the success of his talent show turns all of Hogwarts into a massive looks-oriented, orgiastic machine of bump and grind. Best of all, Snape will no longer suffer from mignight despairs over his traumatic childhood. Lupin has been reunited with his eternal soulmate. Could it possibly get any better? Oh yes, for Lupin is pregnant with Severus Snape's child. Oh, the joys and trials of male pregnancy. Not to worry, Lupin can always go to Harry, who's had plenty of experience with wizard pregnancy.  
  
Roll credits! *We exit the Great Hall as Draco's version of "Lady Marmalade" blasts into our eardrums.  
  
~FIN~ 


	18. And You Thought Lockhart Was Bad

Title: And You Thought Lockhart Was Bad.  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
Hermione rushed into the Great Hall.  
  
"Oh, Harry! Did you hear? Professor Snape's in the hospital ward! Appearently, Voldemort did something really horrible to him!"  
  
"Gasp!" gasped Harry. "Snape's cover has been blown!"  
  
"He's no longer a spy for Dumbledore, then?" asked Ron.  
  
"This is all my fault," sobbed Harry. "Because of me, thousands of people are being killed and tortured."  
  
"No they're not."  
  
"Shut up, Ron! Harry's right. Now how am I going to pass Potions when there's no professor?"  
  
"Never fear! Sichard Rimmons is here!" The doors flew open and in leapt Sichard Rimmons; fitness guru of the wizarding world. "Hello, everybody," he yelled, waving.  
  
Fearing for their lives, the students waved back. Dumbledore clapped his hands, appearently delighted.  
  
"Professor Rimmons has requested that all Hogwarts staff and students be put on a strict diet of fruit, vegetables, and rice," said Dumbledore.  
  
"Hey!" exclaimed Malfoy as his turkey and dressing vanished to be replaced by a plate of brown rices, peas and pomegranates.  
  
Harry looked at Hermione and Ron. "This is serious. We have to get Snape back before Sichard Rimmons starves us to death."  
  
"Or worse," put in Neville, shirking at the way Sichard Rimmons leered at him.  
  
McGonagall buried her head in her hands and truly believed there was no God.  
  
In the meantime, Snape lie on a hospital bed, amusing himself with a Mad Lib.  
  
"Let's see...Squirrly Applenut drove his sink to the crabshack for a bushel of lumberjacks! Ha! Ha! Ha! This is pure genius."  
  
"Professor Snape!"  
  
Snape flung his Mad Lib aside and proceeded to lie sprawled with a disoriented expression.  
  
"Matilda? Are the pancakes done?"  
  
"Oh, quit it!" Hermione slapped Snape, who frowned and sat up.  
  
"Well? What is it? And why the hell is Longbottom here? He pisses his trousers whenever I look at him."  
  
"It's horrible, Professor! Sichard Rimmons is taking your place until further notice," Harry informed Snape.  
  
"He stared at me until I felt all naked and covered with cherry flavored oil," whimpered Neville.  
  
"We're reduced to eating fruit! Please say you're well enough to teach again, Professor."  
  
"No such luck, Weasley. I'm in terrible pain, and due to the horrid mental strain of leading a double life-"  
  
Hermione recovered the Mad Lib and thrust it at Snape.  
  
"What's this?" she demanded.  
  
"Part of my therapy," retorted Snape, snatching the tablet and thrusting it beneath his pillow. "No, children, it looks as though I'll be in here for at least half the school year."  
  
"We're doomed," announced Ron.  
  
Madam Pomfrey marched in. "Out, children. It is time for Professor Snape's sponge bath." The nurse looked behind her. "All right, Mr. Creevey, you may begin your detention."  
  
The next day...  
  
Neville cowered in his seat as Professor Richard Simmons jogged in and winked at him.  
  
"Everybody stand up! Up! Up! Aaaaaand, stretch those fingertips to the ceiling!"  
  
"My father will put a stop to this," declared Draco Malfoy.  
  
At that exact moment, the debonair Lucius Malfoy marched into the Headmaster's office.  
  
"You have gone entirely too far this time, Dumbledore."  
  
"Desperate times call for desperate measures," replied the Headmaster, tapping the tips of his fingers together.  
  
"This is Sichard Rimmons we're talking about!"  
  
Dumbledore only stared at the aristocratic blonde.  
  
"We need to talk," said Lucius at last.  
  
Snape sat munching Star Burst flavored jelly beans while having his feet massaged by Justin Finch-Fletchley.  
  
"I'll bet you'll think twice before peeping in on Professor Sprout during her bath, eh Finch-Fletchley?"  
  
"Professor...why are you wearing a diamond anklet?"  
  
"Be silent and get started on my pedicure. Sexy feet turn women on."  
  
"Who told you that, Professor?"  
  
"I just know."  
  
Hermione raised her hand as she and the other students completed their 25th lap around the dungeon.  
  
"Sir," she panted, "water! Please!"  
  
"We're dying here," added red-faced Ron.  
  
"This is somehow all my fault. I'm going to yell now," whined Harry.  
  
Sichard Rimmons brandished his bullwhip. "Faster! Feel the burn!"  
  
"Damn you to hell, Sichard Rimmons," cried Neville, crawling behind the rest in his leather loincloth.  
  
Lucius poured the Headmaster a stiff whiskey.  
  
"They are consuming brown rice, Albus!"  
  
"An excellent source of nutrition."  
  
"My son, a Malfoy, eating brown rice!"  
  
"There is more to life than Yorkshire puddings and chipolatas, Lucius."  
  
"Exactly what did happen to Severus?"  
  
"Voldemort forced him to sit through the entire cartoon of Return of the King. Well, naturally, by the end of it poor Severus was a mental wreak."  
  
Flashback...  
  
"Frodooo of the nine fingers..."  
  
Snape: I beg of you, master, please kill me now! The boredom is searing my soul with madness! Orcs should not resemble cuddly stuffed animals with pointy teeth! I've read the books, and what the hell did they do to Elrond? What's with the stars? Is he on drugs? Pippin sounds like a surfer boy! If I hear that damn song *one* more time! Why does the whip song have a disco beat to it? There's no disco in Middle Earth! Is that John Denver singing? I long to scrape my brain with napalm!"  
  
Voldemort: Muah! Ha! Ha! Soon the entire world shall tremble before me and my awesome Return of the King cartoon DVD of death!  
  
End flashback.  
  
Dumbledore eyed Lucius warily. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that incident, would you, Lucius?"  
  
"Hell no. I loathe that blasphemous muggle monstrosity." This wasn't working. Lucius was forced to use plan 9. He reached into his pocket. "Headmaster, I just happen to have..."  
  
Hannah Abbot gagged as she prepared to wash Professor Snape's hair.  
  
"Please, Madam Pomfrey, I'd rather clean the entire third floor with my tongue."  
  
"Now, now, do hurry up, Miss Abbot. Mandy Brocklehurst is scheduled to give Professor Snape a full body massage at two o'clock. After that, Dean Thomas comes in to wash and floss the Professor's teeth."  
  
Now Hannah understood why she had seen Dean and Mandy with a blueprint of Hogwarts and several shovels.  
  
Snape flicked his cigarette aside and leaned his head back. "Hurry up, Miss Abbot. Make sure you use Honeysuckle Sunshine and *not* Strawberry Sensation. Tomorrow, Miss Weasley is giving me a facial."  
  
"She has detention, too?"  
  
"No, she has recently started to sell Witch Hazel cosmetics."  
  
Harry, Ron, and Hermione gaped at the front room in shock.  
  
"Surely this is breaking some kind of law," stated Harry.  
  
Neville was demonstrating Sweating to the Oldies in a white, see-through loin cloth.  
  
"P-Professor Rimmons," he panted, "my heart-"  
  
Sichard Rimmons whacked Neville with his scepter of righteous manhood.  
  
"Work it, Longbottom! Work it!"   
  
"I want Snape back," snivelled Neville.  
  
"This is a travesty," declared Ron solemnly.  
  
"Don't forget, Longbottom, you have to be in great shape for next week's body buffet for my unbirthday extravaganza! Everybody join in! Come on! You too, Finnigan."  
  
"This'll make a drunk of me yet," said Seamus, getting to his feet.  
  
Meanwhile...  
  
"Another sherbet lemon drop, Headmaster?"  
  
"Why thank you, Lucius. These are spiffingly delightful, they are! I-"  
  
Dumbledore stared at Lucius as though seeing him for the first time. 'Uh oh, he's onto me,' thought Lucius.  
  
"Is there a problem, Headmaster?"  
  
"You-you!" sputtered Dumbledore, eyes growing quite large.  
  
'Abort mission,' thought Lucius, edging for the door.  
  
"Your ass is a cornucopia of fruity goodness!" exclaimed Dumbledore joyously.  
  
Lucius' dark blond eyebrows furrowed. "Come again?"  
  
"I-you-oh-it's-it is absolutely scrumptuous, my good man!" Dumbledore advanced on the sinister blond, a horrifying grin on his face.  
  
"Those lemon drops were bogus! I've been had! Voldemort-this is *his* doing! Oh shit, did I say that out loud?" yelled Lucius.  
  
"Turn around so that I may behold that ripe, fruitatious ass of yours, Malfoy!"  
  
"Keep away!" Lucius threw himself against the wall, cane at the ready.  
  
Pansy Parkinson faced Snape defiantly.  
  
"I will *not* wash your underwear, Professor!"  
  
"You will, or I shall give you double detention, during which I shall make see to it that you shave my bikini line."  
  
"Euuuurgh!" Pansy felt sick. "Professor, I think you've recovered from your mental breakdown."  
  
"Silence! Scrub my undies until they glow with cleanliness," commanded Snape, removing his silver thong from beneath his billowing black robes, and tossing it at Pansy, who caught it with a butterfly net.  
  
"This is getting out of hand," commented Dennis Creevey as his brother, Colin, took pictures of the laundering of Snape's silver thong.  
  
Just then, Lucius Malfoy rushed by the door, screaming. He was soon followed by Dumbledore, who had his arms outstretched and was yelling, "Fruitopia! Fruitopia!" over and over again.  
  
Soon thereafter, Sichard Rimmons paraded down the hall with his scepter of righteous manliness.   
  
"Follow me, everybody, " he shouted.  
  
The students followed, crawling and moaning for water. Worst of all, Neville Longbottom was wearing a Speedo. Snape marched into the corridor.  
  
"Just what the hell is going on here?" he demanded.  
  
"No! No! Don't touch it," cried a voice that sounded like Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Albus, stop that," shrieked McGonagall.  
  
The Headmaster said something about divinity and asses, but Snape couldn't be too sure.  
  
"Potter, " he snapped, "what is the meaning of all this perversion?"  
  
"Sichard Rimmons," wailed Harry.  
  
"We tried to tell you, Professor," said Ron.  
  
"Water," groaned Hermione, clinging to Snape's robes. She looked zombified. Snape sighed.  
  
"I take an extended sick leave and the whole of Hogwarts comes crashing down. Headmaster, I am appalled!"  
  
Dumbledore was oblivious to Snape's griping, so eager was he to lay his gnarled old hands on Lucius Malfoy's ass of cornucopious goodness.  
  
"Enough of this behavior," roared Snape. "Sichard Rimmons, begone with you!"  
  
Professor Rimmons halted his jaunt and faced Snape.  
  
"Hogwarts belongs to me now, Severus Snape. No one can stop me! Come on, everybody, jumping jacks! One-two! One-two! That's it, Miss Bultrode. Oh yeah!"   
  
Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore began an impromptu game of chase while doing their jumping jacks. Lucius would jump away from the Headmaster and the Headmaster would jumping jack after him.  
  
Snape was about to obliterate the school when Voldemort sauntered in with a walking entertainment system and the cartoon Return of the King DVD. Snape wailed a terrifying wail and sank to his knees.  
  
"We're done for! No one can defeat the monotonous madness of that unbelievably boring cartoon!"  
  
"Play!" Voldemort ordered of his Return of the King DVD of death.  
  
About half the students shrivelled up and died ten minutes into the cartoon. Sichard Rimmons dove out the window, vowing never to come within a thousand miles of Hogwarts.  
  
"This-must-be-stopped," groaned Lucius.  
  
"We must destroy his entertainment unit," agreed McGonagall.  
  
"No! Get this old man away from my ass!"  
  
Harry uttered a battlecry and blasted the machine of death, DVD and all, to bits with his wand. In a blinding flash of light, Voldemort cursed and went back to that accursed hell from whence he came.  
  
With a sigh of relief, McGonagall arose and went over to Snape's huddled figure rocking back and forth.  
  
"Severus, it is over. You can calm down now."  
  
"I'm daddy's little girl. I'm daddy's little girl-oh." Severus got to his feet. "Thank Merlin for that! I hope all of you studied for your test tomorrow."  
  
Neville blanced. "N-not the one Professor Rimmons had planned? The one involving kiwis?"  
  
Snape's visage once more became forboding and stern.  
  
"Is there anything going on in that head of yours, Longbottom? Tomorrow, your lucky class is going to give me a mud wrap."  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: I do not own any part of that abominable Return of the King cartoon. Sichard Rimmons owns all rights to his scepter of righteous manhood. 


	19. When the Headmaster's Away the Professor...

Title: When the Headmaster's Away, the Professors Will Roleplay  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: Check with J.K. Rowling. I don't own 'em.  
  
Yet again, that nitwit Cornelius Fudge had bungled something at the Ministry of Magic. This time the screw up was so catastrophic that Dumbledore would be spending the next two weeks at the Ministry helping to sort the mess out. As for Fudge, he only grinned and rubbed his hands together when he thought of his next two weeks alone with Albus Dumbledore. His plan had worked! Now then, Fudge wondered if the Headmaster liked leather.  
  
Minerva McGonagall and the rest of the school dutifully waved goodbye to Dumbledore upon his departure. The students couldn't help but feel a little down. McGonagall certainly wasn't as lenient as Dumbledore, and she never permitted free for all gropings after four o'clock like the kindly old Headmaster.  
  
With her back ramrod straight and her mouth set in a thin line, McGonagall dismissed everyone to continue the day. Draco Malfoy exited the Main Hall with a sulky expression. Now he couldn't enjoy Charms class in the nude with a cherry ice lollie. Much as Draco disliked Dumbledore, he took full advantage of the old wizard's eccentricities. Several students specualted on whether or not the Thursday night toga party with the house elves would still happen. Why did old McGonagall have to be such an uptight old bitch anyway?  
  
Minerva seated herself behind the Headmaster's desk and instantly jumped up with a yelp.  
  
"Albus, you fiend!" she hissed and tosssed the now giggling nine inch hot pink plastic vibrator aside.  
  
"You should have seen what he ordered out of this month's Dominatrix Delights catalogue," said the Sorting Hat.  
  
"I don't want to know. Really, Albus should-". A knock at the door interrupted the beginning of Minerva's rant. "Come in," she granted sternly and sat up straight as to look imposing. Minerva felt the muscles in her jaw tighten. "Yes, Severus? What is it?"  
  
The disagreeable Potions Master frowned disapprovingly as he entered the office.  
  
"I just caught your darling Potter feeling up Weasley in the Charms corridor."  
  
"Children's hormones *do* rage at that age, Severus, and that Ginny Weasly is quite a hot little number, as I believe you worded it."  
  
Snape's pale lips curled into an ugly sneer.  
  
"Yes, well, Ronald Weasley is *not*, though you'd think otherwise what with the way Potter prodded at him."  
  
Minerva winced. Damn that Severus Snape-always trying to get one over on her!  
  
"Are you ready, Severus?"  
  
"Oh, I suppose so," sighed Snape, leaning against the wall.  
  
Minerva grinned wickedly at him. "Good. Now, put these on," she ordered, tossing a bundle of clothes at him.  
  
Five minutes later...  
  
"Come in," ordered McGonagall firmly, laying her quill aside. "Ah, Mr. Snape. Come in here and sit down this instant!"  
  
"But, Headmistress-"  
  
"At once!" Minerva rapped her wand upon the desk. Snape ducked his head and obeyed. "Now," Minerva sat up even taller, "Mr. Filch tells me he caught you attempting to sneak into the Prefects bathroom with an illegally concocted potion. How *dare* you go against school regulation!"  
  
"I was only-"  
  
"Hush, young man! This is your third and final offense, Mr. Snape. I told you what would happen if you broke the rules again."  
  
"Oh, but-"  
  
Minerva jumped to her feet and jabbed a finger downward. "Come *here*, Mr. Snape!"  
  
"Oh, whatever are you going to do to me, Headmistress?"  
  
"No questions! Do as I command you."  
  
Snape did so with a most convincing display of timidness. Minerva's back tingled with anticipation. Oh, Severus was ever so good at this!  
  
"Headmistress, I didn't mean to do anything bad. I just-Malfoy made me do it! The whole thing was his idea!"  
  
"Silence! Now, stand behind me."  
  
"Wh-what exact-?"  
  
"Now!"  
  
"Yes, Headmistress." Snape scuttled behind Minerva, who leaned over her desk and whipped up her robes.  
  
"Now," said Minerva, "you may begin, only be more forceful this time."  
  
"But, I can't even-"  
  
"Do it before I get Mr. Malfoy in here and make you do it to him while I watch!"  
  
"Yes, Headmistress."  
  
Lucius Malfoy stalked to Dumbledore's office. He allowed himself a prideful smirk at the looks the student body gave him. Oh yes, they loathed him-most of them, anyway, but they still loved looking at him, and they should; he was pure Malfoy material, and that meant quality."  
  
Flipping his long ash blond hair out of his face, Lucius was suddenly standing right outside the Headmaster's office. Hey, I don't feel like working out the details as to how Lucius Malfoy knows the password. For all we know, he slept with Dumbledore to find out. Anyway, the stately Lucius Malfoy was about to rap upon the door with his sexy cane when he heard the most horrible noises coming from behind the newly painted green door.  
  
"Oh yes! Faster! Faster! Harder! Oh, I am a dirty old bitch! Make me suffer! Ooooh, yes Severus Snape! YES!!!" shrieked the straight and narrow Minerva McGonagall. She sounded like she was being murdered... and loving it. Severus, did she say? Lucius frowned. He should have known.  
  
The unexpected Lucius Malfoy burst into the room. His gray eyes focused on the figures of McGonagall, bent over the Headmaster's desk, her bare buttocks exposed to the ceiling, a very bright red color, indeed. Behind her stood the dreaded Potions Master in a Hogwarts school uniform, tie loosened at the neck, his hand positioned in mid-air; palm facing down. Lucius was almost disgusted. So, the worthy Head of Gryffindor House had a spanking fetish, did she?  
  
The two professors stared at Lucius.  
  
"Severus, how could you do such a thing?"  
  
Snape looked quite uneasy. "Well, I..."  
  
"How could you partake of kink in the Headmaster's office and not invite me? Do you have any idea how I've longed for a day like this? When I was a young child attending this school, I would-"  
  
"Oh shut up and come over here and fuck me!" screamed McGonagall.  
  
"Well all right, but only if Severus watches and draws graphic sketches of our doings."  
  
Snape whipped out a drawing pad and a pencil. "Consider it done, my good man."  
  
"Come one! Come all! Come and ride the trademark Malfoy dong!" roared Lucius, tearing his robes open.  
  
Minerva tittered uncontrollably as she scrambled off the desk towards the sworn enemy of Gryffindors everywhere.  
  
Harry and Draco scowled at one another as they boarded the escalator up to the Headmaster's office.  
  
"You should be expelled for fondling Weasley like that during Care of Magical Creatures, Potter."  
  
"You might be slapped with a lawsuit, so shut it, Malfoy. Trelawney'll be out of commision for monthes after taking a tumble like that out the fifth story window. You know nudity isn't allowed between classes. Too bad Neville broke her fall."  
  
Draco rolled his eyes. "You'd think she'd never seen a naked guy before."  
  
Both boys exchanged uneasy expressions soon as Draco voiced this thought.  
  
"Well, here we are," sighed Harry, hoping that McGonagall was in a good mood.  
  
The two students walked in on an unsettling scene: Malfoy senior and Minerva McGonagall doing the wild thing while emulating train noises. Worse still, Snape, clad in only a tie and black socks, stood over them, scrawling something on a pad. Harry and Draco just stared.  
  
"This is really fucked up." commented Harry at last.  
  
"Crikey!" exclaimed Draco, going over to Fawks' perch. "I think the perversion killed Dumbledore's phoenix."  
  
"So what do we do? Should we interrupt them or come back when everyone's more presentable?"  
  
Malfoy junior grinned. "Neither. We'll have fun with this, Potter. Allow me to instruct you as to the true nature of a Slytherin." Draco pointed his wand at the busy trio and intoned "Sonerous!"  
  
Hermione glared at Ron as the Gryffindors filed into Charms.  
  
"Brilliant one, Ron. You've probably just gotten Harry expelled!"  
  
"It's not my fault he can't keep his hands to himself," replied Ron as they sat down.  
  
"Well, I didn't see you fighting him off."  
  
"Hey, not everyone can say he's been fondled by the Boy Who Lived. Anyway, McGonagall'll probably give him a detention at the worst. Oh, did you hear about Trelawney? You'd think the old looney's never seen a naked guy before."  
  
Hermione shuddred at the thought and took out her notes.  
  
"Professor Flitwick, I-"  
  
A very loud noise cut her off. Puzzled, the students exchanged quizzical glances while trying to figure out what was happening.  
  
"Oh stop or I'll scream! Yes! Oh the wonders of the Malfoy dong are not to be surpassed!"  
  
"How are those pictures coming along, Severus?"  
  
"Have a look for yourself, Lucius."  
  
"Severus...why do you have me dressed like Mother Goose with nylons?"  
  
"That is what my artistic eye sees."  
  
"Have it your own way."  
  
"Severus, take off that tie. I want you to gag Lucius with it."  
  
"Look what I found-a nine inch hot pink plastic vibrator with the Headmaster's initials on the tip. Hey, it giggles. Neat!"  
  
"Shut up, Draco!"  
  
"Did you hear that, Lucius?"  
  
"POTTER! What are you-?"  
  
"Father! Professor! The horror!"  
  
"No, I cannot remove that gag from your mouth, Lucius. I placed a timed binding charm on it."  
  
By now, every living and non-living entity of Hogwarts breathlessly hung onto every word. Hagrid stepped outside his hut.  
  
"Blimey! I didn't know Professor Snape could draw. I'll hafter ask 'im ter draw me a picture of Nicholas Flamel naked!"  
  
Hermione buried her head in embarassment. Ron only smiled and sucked on a sugar quill while thinking of Harry's delicate hands.  
  
"Oh my," squeaked Flitwick. "Minerva's authorative position has gotten entirely out of hand. She's never needed to use a gag before."  
  
Just then, Dumbledore walked in on the fiasco. Snape quickly grabbed the Sorting Hat to cover his privates, yelped, and flung the chuckling hat against the wall. Both Harry and Draco smiled into their hands.  
  
"Albus...you're early," was all McGonagall could say.  
  
"Not early enough." The Headmaster looked very stern, indeed. "This is a place of employment, not a brothel."  
  
Everyone lowered his/her head in shame.  
  
"You know the rules Severus, Minerva. Absolutely no role playing or bondage on Wednesdays. Why must the two of you continue to disregard the rules?"  
  
"Because it feels so naughty!" cried Snape.  
  
"Draco, put that vibrator down. It is not for you. Harry, what did I tell you about fondling Mr. Weasley during school hours?"  
  
"Sorry, Headmaster," mumbled Harry.  
  
Dumbledore clasped his hands behind his back. "There are serious consequences for offenses such as these. Lucius, hand over your cane, please."  
  
Malfoy senior unwillingly surrendered his regal cane.  
  
Ten minutes later...  
  
"Wow! Dumbledore's really angry."  
  
"Oh, shut up, Potter," grumbled Draco.  
  
"I frankly cannot believe this."  
  
"Then why are you smiling, Minerva?"  
  
"Let's take it from the top," said Dumbledore.  
  
The others groaned, except for Minerva, and bent over. Dumbledore promptly whacked Severus's ass with Lucius's cane. Severus shouted a note similar to a B-minor. Dumbledore then whacked Harry's ass. Harry uttered a note one octave higher.  
  
"Ah, the joys of music to my ears," sighed Albus, whacking everyone's ass with the sexy cane until he had played a tune.  
  
"Why did you give him your cane, father?"  
  
"I don't know! Don't talk to me, Draco."  
  
"This happens everytime you let the Malfoy dong get the best of you. I'm telling mum!"  
  
"Do so and your mother will find out about your secret membership with Sichard Rimmon's Nudist Wizarding Camp."  
  
"Father, you are a right bastard, you are-OW-I mean LAAAA!"  
  
Severus gritted his crooked teeth with apprehension each time the Headmaster walked close. It wasn't the actual whacking that so bothered the grouchy Potions Master, rather, it was the horrible *anticipation* of being whacked. That dreaded uncertainty of not quite knowing when that heavy stick of wood would unforgivingly pound against his bare, bony buttocks. Worse still was the expression on Minerva McGonagall's face. Why oh why did she have to grin like that? Worst of all, why did the entire school have to bear witness to their discipline?  
  
~FIN~  
  
Next up: That dreaded, drop-dead gorgeous DADA teacher we love to hate!!! 


	20. You Can't Choose Your Relatives

Title: You Can't Choose Your Relatives  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
A/N: I know I promised a DADA fic, and it will come after this one. After much pursual of new material to parody, I felt I must address those horrid Snape's daughter cliches as soon as humanly possible. I promise the DADA will be after this one. In the meantime, enjoy, and thanks to all who read and appreciate my warped sense of humor. And now...  
  
The doors opened and in sweeps a tall, thin, beautiful girl with long black hair, blue eyes, pale skin, blood red lips, and Stevie Nicks attire, minus the tambourine.  
  
"Hello all. I am Raven Nightingale Snape, and I'm transferring from Transexual Transylvania. Yes, this means I am Snape's daughter."  
  
"Holy shit! Snape actually got laid?" choked Ron.  
  
"Moreso than you do in these godawful fics, Weasley. Now, Raven, go and sit at Gryffindor table so the tension between us can begin," directed Snape.  
  
"Fifty Galleons says she's had a nose job," whispered Hermione. "I mean, a nose like Snape's has to be a dominant trait."  
  
Headmaster Dumbledore arose. " A few words, if you please. Let us welcome our newest and only student this year, Miss Raven Nightingale Snape, who has only met her father two days ago at a bar in Dublin. Severus tried to solicate her for sex, you see."  
  
"I thought she was my dead wife come back just in time for happy hour," snapped Snape, "It could happen to anyone!"  
  
"And now for a few words from our very own sorting hat." said Dumbledore.  
  
The sorting hat quickly extinguished a joint and drew itself up regally. "Yes, Snape's daughter is indeed Gryffindor material because she's not a conniving bitch, nor is she a book-oriented Ravenclaw. If I placed her in Hufflepuff, Snape would commit suicide and we'd have no story. So, Gryffindor it is! Man, this is some good shit I bought in Knockturn Alley."  
  
"Uh, hi," greeted Harry to Snape's daughter as she sat next to the famous trio. "I feel sorry for you already. Snape's a real asshole."  
  
"Harry, this is his daughter! Show a little respect."  
  
"Oh, that's okay, Hermione. Actually, daddy's not so bad once he's had a couple of whiskeys. He does a great reinactment of Hannibal Lector psychoanalyzing Jodie Foster's character."  
  
The whole table stared at her.  
  
"That's seriously fucked up," said Dean Thomas.  
  
"Who's Hannibal Lecter?" asked Ron.  
  
"You're really hot in a living dead girl kind of way," Harry told Raven.  
  
"Sorry, Harry, but I like older men. That Sirius Black's a sex god."  
  
"I heard that!" snarled Snape, sweeping over and glaring at all the boys with only one pair of eyes. "If I catch any of you near my daughter, I will draw and quarter you all. Raven, I am very disappointed in you! Fifteen generations of Snape's have been in Slytherin and you've broken the chain of command!"  
  
"I hate you, daddy! You were never there for me! I'm glad mummy left you for that dancing mime instructer! And now I'm going to faint for no good reason!"  
  
Snape rolls his eyes. "She does this all the time. Something to do with a psychic link to Voldemort. Longbottom, if that's an erection I see-"  
  
"B-But Professor, your daughter looks so beautiful with those long inky eyelashes and blood red lips. You're the one who tried to solicate her."  
  
"I was drunk!"  
  
Raven sat up. "Sorry 'bout that. Harry, I think your life may be in danger. Oh, Daddy, do the Quid Pro Quo bit from The Silence of the Lambs. I'll be Clarice."  
  
Harry, Ron and Hermione exchanged looks.  
  
"Snape and his daughter have a very unnerving relationship," stated Hermione.  
  
Sometime later in potions...  
  
EXPLOSION!!!  
  
Raven cringes. "Whoops."  
  
Snape stalked over, his black robes flaring. Overall, he resembles Johnny Depp's character's father in Sleepy Hollow, minus the wig..  
  
"You suck at potions, too! I'm about this far from disowning you, Raven!"   
  
"Too-much-pressure!" gasps Raven and goes into convulsions.  
  
Because he has nothing better to do, Snape lights up a cigarette, disrobes, and does the Cauldron Kiddle, a sprightly little dance, indeed. Lost, Harry turns to Hermione.  
  
"Why isn't my scar hurting when she has fits?"  
  
"Because we're the secondary characters in this, Harry."  
  
"Okay! Okay! I'm sorry I yelled at you, Raven! Parenting is damnably hard work." Snape lights up another cigarette.  
  
Raven hops up. "Daddy, I had a vision..."  
  
"Here we go," groans Ron.  
  
"Shut up!" yell Snape and Raven.  
  
"Daddy, someone is going to die."  
  
"I hope you're not going to blame me for that as well."  
  
Raven turned to Harry. "You were right. My dad's a real asshole."  
  
"And you are my daughter, so that makes you 50 percent asshole, at least,"retorted Snape, lighting yet another cigarette.  
  
Snape's dead wife now appears. How does Snape get such beautiful women in bed with him? Must be that greasy hair; it emits that seductive Snapish scent that turns women ito lust-crazed sexual beastesses.  
  
"Raven, give into your assholishness. You are a true Snape. Oh, and Voldemort will be arriving in T-minus 5 minutes. Oh, and Severus?"  
  
"Yes, dear?"  
  
"Put your robes back on."  
  
"No, dear."   
  
Snape's dead wife grinned lecherously. "That's my sexy Severus! Rooooowrrrr!"  
  
Harry turned to Ron.  
  
"I'm not sure if I'm mentally scarred or not." Voldemort beams down from some distant parallel universe that allows him inside Hogwarts. Harry clamps his hands over his forehead. "My scar!" He then topples over.  
  
Raven pours a goblet of wine and begins to dance.  
  
"Die! Die! Die! Die! We're all going to die!"  
  
"You are one warped child," laughes the naked Snape with much amusement, lighting a cigarette.  
  
"Behold!" shouts Voldemort and Avada Kadavra's Raven, despite the fact that Harry is a prime target, rolling on the floor in immense agony.  
  
Neville: Oh my god! You killed Raven!  
  
Draco: You bastard!  
  
Laughing, Voldemort then turns to Snape and says, "More angst for your money, Severus. You must retain your position of my most miserable and tormented Death Eater of all time. Fatherhood really doesn't suit you anyhow. Aren't you going to go overly-dramatic on us now?"  
  
Snape's black eyes turn red cuz it looks really bitchin'.  
  
"No," he growls in a demonic voice, "I am going to go Medieval on your scaly ass!" The Sheriff of Nottingham runs in with his gorgeous, glowing zircon encrusted tweezers. He grins lecherously. "Get out of here! I didn't mean it like that!" shouts Snape.  
  
Disappointed, the Sheriff lowers his sparkling zircon encrusted tweezers. He looks down.  
  
"Who's the girl?"  
  
"My daughter. Now leave."  
  
"Can I take her along?"  
  
"She is dead, you fool!"  
  
"I know that."  
  
Snape goes bullistic. "Get out of here, you deranged pervert!"  
  
"Nudistic twit," mutters the Sheriff, exiting.  
  
Harry sat up. "Okay, now I'm definitely mentally scarred."  
  
Hermione looked at Snape. "Professor, aren't you upset about you daughter?"  
  
Snape lights up, yes, another cigarette. "As much whoring as I've done in my short life, I'm bound to have another one running around somewhere."  
  
"Good point," conceeds the logical Hermione.  
  
Ron frowns. "Well, this was a complete waste of time. Where the hell did You-Know-Who go?"  
  
Everyone shrugs and Voldemorts abrupt disappearance is never explained because it's assumed he just left because everything is just fine now.  
  
Raven abruptly sits up. "Not so, Weasley. You didn't really think a simple Avada Kadavra curse could kill off a Snape so easily, did you?"  
  
"Well then how did your mother die?" Harry wanted to know.  
  
Raven looked very grim. "That's a case of a good mime gone bad."  
  
The children shudder.  
  
"Daddy, aren't we going to bond now?"  
  
"Right." Snape lights a cigarette, clears his throat, and..."Hello, Clariiiiiiiiiice."  
  
"Oh, daddy, do the fava beans part!"  
  
Hermione looks at Harry and Ron.  
  
"I'm going to sign myself up for psychotherapy now. Care to join me?"   
  
As the children exit the dungeon and walk down the corridor, they pass a sheet of parchment tacked to the wall...  
  
Have you been humiliated? Are you angry? Does the thought of revenge give you an erection? If so, call the Sheriff. No job too small. The Sheriff's patented, one of a kind Zircon Encrusted Tweezers are guaranteed to provide hours of excruciating torture to the victim of your choice.  
  
The Sheriff is on call day or night, seven days a week. The Sheriff is also a free-lance whore monger. If you are just plain horny, stop on by. FEMALES ONLY!!! Bring a friend.  
  
~FIN~  
  
Kudos to those who spot the line I borrowed from an Alan Rickman movie, other than the obvious Robin Hood references. The Sheriff does not belong to me, unfortunately. The zircon encrusted tweezers are the brainchild of the late, great Frank Zappa, courtesy of his brilliant song, Montana. 


	21. Harry Loves

Title: Harry Loves…  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and non-perverse concepts. A few nights ago, I dreamt that I was harassing Lucius Malfoy. I specifically remember asking him, "Mr. Malfoy, are you drunk?" He wasn't too pleased, but there you go.  
  
A/N: Yes, it's been forever and a day since adding to this, but life gets in the way sometimes. Anyhow, I know I promised that horrid DADA fic, which I will eventually get to posting. I can't say when, just keep your eyes peeled. Until then…  
  
Harry boarded the Hogwarts Express, looked around, glimpsed Draco Malfoy and swooned. He wanted to run over and do things to Malfoy that even Madonna wouldn't have dared to put in her Sex book.  
  
"So this is what love feels like," mused Harry, walking into the nearest compartment that just happened to house Ron and Hermione.  
  
"Hey guys." he greeted.  
  
"Hey." responded Ron and Hermione, not looking up from their reading and exploding snap.  
  
Unbeknownst to even the author, they were all a part of Voldemort's secret experiment. Not that this has anything to do with the plot, but it sure sounds exciting! But, onto more important things!  
  
Young, virile and now with an excellent muscle tone to boot, Harry Potter looked outside the window and thought of nothing but Malfoy. Nay, not Malfoy. Malfoy no longer. Now, forevermore in Harry's mind, Malfoy would be DRACO in huge red neon lettering that cute little flapper girls in sparkling short dresses dance around. Yes, he's that important, folks!  
  
Side thought…  
  
'I guess this makes me homosexual. I hope Ron doesn't find out. He might get upset. Ron always gets upset. Ron has a swell arse. D'oh! Thought it again!'  
  
Worlds apart, and only one compartment over…  
  
Draco turned to Crabbe and Goyle.  
  
"Go away," ordered he. "I'm having thoughts full of turmoil."  
  
"Yep. He's hot for Potter. How convenient." muttered Goyle.  
  
"He's Draco Malfoy. He can do whatever he wants," insisted Crabbe, ever the loyal one.  
  
"Yeah. Sure. Come on, Crabbe. Let's go assault the witch who pushes the food trolley." said Goyle.  
  
Draco rolled his eyes as the two exited, then turned to stare out at the rolling hills. Romantic music swells!!!  
  
"Oooooooooooohhhhhh-"  
  
Snape sweeps in, in all his black billowing glory. "None of that!" he growls.  
  
"But sir-"  
  
"There is no singing in this story, Mr. Malfoy. And if anyone makes mention of the unintended rhyme I just made, he shall instantly be subjected to hours of Speed Racer reruns!" Snape faces the audience with his ever-present Snapish scowl. "And now for a word from one of our sponsers." Crickets chirp. Snape scowls anew. "Oh hell! I'll do it myself. Help me out here, Mr. Malfoy."  
  
Draco grumbles but obliges. The scene suddenly changes to a bright medow where a beautiful girl with long golden hair and a flowing white dress runs with a bouquet of flowers. Snape's sallow face fills the screen.  
  
"Mary Sue spoiling your otherwise perfectly realistic fic? Do not be a slave to the cliched masses. Call the professionals."  
  
The camera pans back and we see both Snape and Malfoy holding machine guns and wearing black leather trenchcoats, looking cool as hell.  
  
"Don't try this at home, kids." warns Draco as he and Snape zero in on Mary Sue and plug her full of lead.  
  
Legolas runs over to them. "Gee thanks! I was really tired of that airhead ruining the-"  
  
Snape and Malfoy exchange glances and promptly open fire Legolas.  
  
"This is fun!" exclaims Draco.  
  
"I feel fucking great!" roars Snape, now sporting a dark green headband, Rambo style.  
  
And now back to our regularly scheduled program!  
  
Harry sighs as he ponders his sexuality. His heart flutters whenever Draco's pale, elfin face enters his mind. Pulling a mandolin out of a random third year's ass, Harry plays a haunting melody. Please note that Harry is now in a dark forest while still on the Hogwarts Express.  
  
"Ooooooooooh-SHIT! What the fuck?" screams Harry, taking cover while the mandolin is reduced to splinters.  
  
"I said no singing," hisses Snape, pointing his smoking machine gun at Harry.  
  
"Are we there yet? I'm starving," says Ron.  
  
Harry, suddenly holding his mutilated mandolin even though he dropped it in the last scene, throws the mutilated mandolin down. "Dammit!" he yells. "Everyone get out of my fantasy. I can sing in my own fantasy if I want to!"  
  
"Fine, but keep it down. I'm studying for my O.W.L.S." says Hermione.  
  
Draco's gray eyes suddenly light up as he lifts his machine gun ever so slightly.  
  
"Yeah, Potter. Go ahead and sing," he prompts.  
  
"Draco, you can't shoot me. We love each other."  
  
"Fuck!" Draco tosses the machine gun into a convenient plot hole. The same convenient plot hole that the dark forest disappeared into awhile ago, but this author failed to mention that until now. "Love is cruel!"  
  
"Isn't it though." agrees Harry.  
  
"We're here," announces Hermione, closing her book. "Professor, you'll have to leave your gun on the Hogwarts Express. Why are you even on the train to begin with?"  
  
Snape popped a bottle of rootbeer open with his crooked teeth. "Some infernal nonsense about being Potter's bound guardian due to my twisted vampiric bloodlines and a bad hand at poker 1500 generations ago."  
  
Everyone's eyes glazed over.  
  
"Would you mind repeating that?" asked Draco.  
  
Snape chugged his rootbeer, belches, and scowled at the children.   
  
"My sole purpose in life is to hound Potter like a second shadow. Everyone knows that! It is my bloody destiny!"  
  
"Wow. It really sucks to be you, Professor." observed Ron as everyone steps off the train.  
  
"Isn't there supposed to be a rift in the infamous trio before the feast?" Neville wanted to know.  
  
"Right! Ron, I'm gay."  
  
"You repulse me, Harry! I am a homophobe. Now I'm off to plot devious plots and stuff!"  
  
"Bye, Ron." Harry turns to Hermione. "I suppose you're going to support me in my time of need?"  
  
"But of course, Harry. I supported you when you 'borrowed' out of Dumbledore's petty cash box; I supported you during that incident with the crossdressing moose, and I'll support you through this as well. Aren't I the greatest?" beams Hermione.  
  
McGonagall clanged her goblet with a fork because everyone is now suddenly seated in the Great Hall.  
  
"Speech!"  
  
"Mr. Baggins! You are not in this story. Get out at once!" scolded McGonagall.  
  
"My presence only adds to this already deplorable plot," argued Frodo. "Besides, I'm selling locks of hair from the recently deceased Legolas for twenty Galleons a pop."  
  
McGonagall wrinkled her nose in disgust. Dumbledore arose and announced that Hufflepuff was being replaced with a group of Femmebots from Salem's Lot, Maine.  
  
"Oh, and Harry Potter fancies boys, for those of you who are interested. Now, let's eat!" exclaimed the Headmaster.  
  
Ron was so angry he took a bite out of the table and chewed grudgingly while glaring at the enchanted ceiling, that was currently showing "Gone With the Wind". Draco and Harry owled each other all during the feast. Their girlish messages consisted of "You're so cute!" and "Hee! Hee! You're blushing!"  
  
Hermione was now memorizing Hogwarts entire library selection by aid of her stolen timeturner. She stumbled across fifteen-year-old Lupin and Sirius snogging in the Restricted Section.  
  
"It's your fault Harry's gay!" screams Hermione and runs away, her brain fried by too much time travel.  
  
"Who in hell was that, Moony?"  
  
"I don't know. A little to the right, dear boy. Ooooh, yes! That 's the way! Good boy!"  
  
"Rooooooowwwr!"  
  
Back in our present time, boy that's an oxymoron, Neville suddenly explodes and no one cares. It seems that the Femmebots were too sexy for Neville's delicate, quirky libido. Dumbledore gives up all pretense of running the school and retires to his secret basement of pain.  
  
Draco becomes pregnant as does Harry. Both are carrying the other's set of twins, if that makes any sense. It shouldn't make sense. Even if Harry were gay, he probably wouldn't bonk Malfoy. He'd probably fuck Seamus. Then again, he probably would not. Anyway, their night of lust was rather unromantic because Snape sat nearby polishing his gun-his machine gun, you perverts! He'd bribed a house elf to conceal it in the Jell-o mold of Nicholas Flamel's torso.  
  
Snape was rather bored by the inexperienced duo, and kept on making suggestions such as "Suck his toes" and "Stop being the woman and fuck him like a man, baby!"   
  
No one really noticed Hermione to be missing. She had things so screwed up that she was in the year 1200, dating a 16-year-old Tom Riddle, who was Merlin's personal washboy. By the same token, Ron was brainwashing the Femmebots to help him rule his own nation of Squidward type characters. On and on the pointlessness ensued until Voldemort pranced into Hogwarts to set things right.  
  
First of all, he Avada Kedavra'd little Frodo to show how mean he is. Then, Voldemort Crucioed Snape 254,456 times in a row to show how merciless he is. Next, he boiled Dobby into a pudding and force fed him to Parvati Patil to show how cruel he is. Finally, Voldemort had Harry Potter in his clutches and was about to murder the boy when Voldemort changed his mind. Instead, he placed a tracking charm on Harry.  
  
"Uh, Voldemort, wouldn't it be easier to juist kill me now?"  
  
"Nonsense! I can kill you whenever I like. Until then, I am going to let you live so you can run to Dumbledore and combine your powers with his to defeat me. Go on, then."  
  
"You are very stupid."  
  
"Stupid? Hah! No one can fathom the genius of Lord Voldemort!"  
  
Hermione stumbles into the room wearing a tight, futuristic silver bodysuit.  
  
"The universe is infinitely backwards!" she shouts. "So much so that it goes forward... and stuff."  
  
Voldemort clutches his head.   
  
"Ack!" cries he. "I am defeated!"  
  
Voldie disappears in a poof of green smoke. Angels sing and a blinding light shines. Sirius is back from the dead; resurrected to his 15-year-old self. He is leading Lupin on a leash.  
  
"Hiya, Harry!"  
  
"Sirius!" exclaims Harry. "You're alive! Oh, happy day!"  
  
Hermione cries tears of joy as Draco rushes into Harry's arms. Much exaggerated and prolonged kissing ensues.  
  
"Look! Legolas, Frodo, Dobby, Neville and Mary Sue are alive again!" yells Colin Creevy.  
  
Trumpets blare and the tall guy on stilts walks around throwing confetti. Dumbledore finally emerges from his basement of pain with a newly reformed Ron.  
  
"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry." weeps Ron. "I was such an ass! I accept your gayness as I have accepted my own feminine side. I have seen the error of my ways. Let us dance!"  
  
And there was much dancing and it was good.  
  
"Look! Snape's hair isn't greasy anymore!" shouts Colin Creevy.  
  
"It's just been announced on the radio that all war, famine, and poverty have been alleviated worldwide!" booms Dean Thomas.  
  
"I like my ass!" shrieks...someone.  
  
The world is a good place.  
  
Then, Harry and Draco simultaneously clutch their stomachs.  
  
"I'm in labor!" they shout because they are indeed pregnant, remember?  
  
Twenty hours later...  
  
Minerva wiped a tear from her eye as she beheld Harry's twins.  
  
"They look just like James and Lily!"  
  
"Professor, did you see Lily and James as babies or something?"  
  
"Shut up before you utterly destroy this pile of sentimental bullshit."  
  
"Strange...Draco's twins look just like Remus and Sirius."  
  
"Well, Sirius is technically Draco's uncle. It could happen."  
  
"That doesn't explain the Lupin factor."  
  
Snape cleared his throat. Yes, he still exists. Now with a gorgeous mane of sleek raven hair, Snape resembles Alan Rickman at age 25.  
  
"I believe that the final battle between Voldemort somehow attributes to the Lupin factor," declares sexy, sexy Snape.  
  
Dumbledore shrugged and said, "Sounds good to me. And now, I am pleased to announce that Legolas is the new Minister of Magic and, yes, his hair has grown back from where Frodo chopped it off to sell."  
  
Ron checked his clipboard. "I guess that covers everything, then."  
  
Seamus looked up from his beer. "You mean, this horrid cliche has finally come to a close?"  
  
"So it would seem." replied Ron.  
  
Hermione runs in, sobbing hysterically.  
  
"I'm pregnant!" she screams. "And *someone's* responsible!"  
  
Dun. Dun! DUN!!!  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: No, I don't own Speed Racer, the Femmebots, or any character associated with Middle Earth, namely Legolas and Frodo. Oh, and Squidward is the property of whoever owns the rights to Spongebob. 


	22. Damn Those DamselInDistress Scenarios

Title: Those Damnable Damsel-In-Distress Scenarios  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: Check with J.K. Rowling. I own all rights to my own twisted visions of Snape in less than pants. I particularly have a fetish that involves him in a long black robe and absolutely nothing underneath it. And it makes me wonder...  
  
Hermione was reading aboard the Hogwarts Express when Neville burst into the compartment.  
  
"Have you seen Trevor? I lost him just so I could come in here and ask you that."  
  
Hermione sighed and said, "You're so expendable, Neville."  
  
"I know. Bye!"  
  
Neville left because he is such a useless character in fanfiction, unless you run across one of those eerie Neville/Snape slash fics. Seconds later, the door slid open again and in marched burly, beefcake Ron, now with double the testosterone.  
  
"What were you doing with Neville, you slut?" demanded he.  
  
Hermione's beautiful tea-colored eyes widened.  
  
"Excuse me?" spoke she. "He just-"  
  
"You lying bitch hound! You insolent ass clown!" cried Ron.  
  
Ron proceeded to beat Hermione against the wall like a rug because, for a reason that is never explained, Ron is Hogwarts new number one asshole.  
  
"Ouch! Eeeee! Ow! That hurts! Stop it! Yow! That hurt-I think! Oh-my hair!"  
  
Ten minutes later, big bad Ron storms off, leaving the dainty and lovely Hermione bruised and with a bloody nose, thought by all rights she should be dead.  
  
Being the clever sort, Hermione performs a series of charms to mask the blood and bruises and to restore her now non-frizzy curls to glossy perfection.. Right on que, Harry Potter, athelete-extroidinaire, walks in.  
  
"Hello, Hermione. Have you seen Ron?"  
  
"Uh-no?"  
  
"Okay. I'll go look for him. By the bye, I think you've advanced another cup size over the unbelievably short summer holiday. That puts you right at a 36 DD. Congratulations, Hermione!"  
  
Thank you, Harry."  
  
Harry leaves. Ron storms in.  
  
"What were you doing with Harry?" he demands, cracking his knuckles.  
  
"Here we go again," sighes damsel-in-distress/bookwormish Hermione.  
  
On the way to Transfiguration...  
  
"Hey Mudblood! Lookin' good!"  
  
"Oh fuck off, Malfoy,"grumbles Hermione.  
  
"Okay." Malfoy walks off, unconcerned.  
  
'Wow,' thinks Hermione, 'Malfoy's changed. He's so nice! So different than Ron. So handsome, too. That long silver-blond hair. Those dreamy gray eyes.' And what unrealistically glorious muscles Malfoy had, courtesy of his Seeker skills. Hermione sighed.  
  
"I saw you looking at Malfoy!" growled Ron, running over to her. "There will be a punishment for that after class. Now, hold my hand and smile so that everyone will envy our relationship."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes, what? You miserably modest slut? I must make the readers loathe me"  
  
"Yes, master Ron."  
  
"Damn straight!"  
  
The lovely, lonely Hermione blinked back tears as she forced herself to smile. Ron's tight grip around her 17 inch waist made her feel faint. Hermione did not want him to touch her. Not she! To add even more drama to this horrific plot, the author will now have young Ginny Weasley skipping by singing Britany Spears' "Lucky Girl". Oh! This is most heart wrenching!  
  
Transfiguration came and went with lightening speed. Ron then hurried Hermione to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, transfigured his feet into cloven hooves, and proceeded to stamp on her. Moaning Myrtle looked on, giggling. Miraculously, Hermione's frail back was not broken, nor were her insides squashed. Crying, she got to her feet and reapplied her makeup just in time for Potions.  
  
Snape makes a grand entrance in one of those long, black leather costumes from the Matrix trilogy. Excuse me while I bask in the sexiness of the thought. Removing his slick shades, Snape partners everyone up to make an Instant Sobriety Potion. For no good reason other than a clever plot device, Snape pairs up Hermine and Malfoy while Ron glares. Oh no! This surely must mean more punishment is in store for our beloved, big-busted Hermione.  
  
"Wow, Malfoy. You're really good at brewing potions. I was so wrong about you," said Hermione, in awe of Malfoy's awesomeness at making potions.  
  
"Call me Draco. You are interesting to talk to. You are also pretty. May I carry your books after class, Granger?"  
  
"Oh! I would love for you to, but, alas, I'm with asshole Ron."  
  
"Speaking of Weasley, he's giving us the most dirtiest looks, he is. Hey, is that a bruise I see on your temple, Granger?"  
  
"Uh-no?"  
  
"I don't believe you, but I'll let it pass for now. Why don't you watch me practice for Quidditch this evening, Granger?"  
  
"Okay. I'll lie to Ron and say I'm going to study in the library. After he catches me emerging from the Quidditch stadium, he'll pummel me mercilessly in full view of everyone, including the professors and the Headmaster. That will be your chance to prove your undying love for me!" exclaims Hermione, now even more radiently beautiful at the thought of infidelity. She could be just like Diane Lane in "Unfaithful".  
  
Malfoy-I mean Draco, smiled.  
  
"It's a date, then. Hooray!"  
  
"Watch this!" orders Snape, and does one of those cool Matrix maneuvers where he pauses in mid-air. In the background, Captain Jack Sparrow skies by drinking a bottle o rum and cackling madness to his beloved hat.   
  
Hermione and Draco bond during Draco's Quidditch practice. They fly around the castle on Draco's broom singing "A Whole New World" from Aladdin. In the background, Snape and Captain Jack Sparrow are doing backflips and headstands while updating the Hogwarts computer system. The Captain drinks more rum.  
  
In a dream, Hermione floats back toward Gryffindor tower.  
  
"You sheep whore!" yells Ron, jerking sweet Hermione back to the ground. "I saw you flying around the castle and singing with Malfoy. You have publicly shamed me. Now you shall pay!"  
  
"Oh no, Ron! Please! Please don't use the barbed wire on me!"  
  
"Take that, you trampish tart! And that!" Ron beats Hermione aplenty in full view of everyone, including the professors and the Headmaster. Captain Jack Sparrow looks on, drinking his rum.   
  
Ron is about to stuff Hermione into a barrel lined with rusted nails when Draco zooms by on his stick flying pogo stick with Giger detailing.  
  
"Unhand her, you baffoon," orders Draco.  
  
Ron, suddenly wearing a black cape and a black tophat, produces a magic rapier. Her pushes the sobbing Hermione to the ground, downs an economy size jug of rum (to the astoundment of Captain Jack Sparrow), and goes after Draco.  
  
Draco, now wearing white tights, a baby blue ruffled shirt, a flowing white cape and white leather boots, produces a handsome light saber. Jareth the Goblin King stalks over and threatens to flog Malfoy for stealing one of his outfits.  
  
"I lent it to him for some drug money," shouts a very pretty girl with long dark hair, and takes off on Draco's magic pogo stick.  
  
"Wait up there, lass," slurs Captain Jack Sparrow, and stumbles prettily after the pretty dark-haired girl.  
  
Jareth pops a couple of Ephedra and chases after the pirate and the pretty girl.  
  
"Now you will have to fight me without your precious pogo stick of power, Malfoy!" jeers Ron, trying to get his fake black beard to stick to his face.  
  
"En garde!" shouts Draco and they have a chivalrous swordfight on the castle wall. It just drips of Medieval romanticism.   
  
"Oh help! Help!" shrieks helpless Hermione, now clad in a Galadriel-type dress.  
  
Haldir of Lothlorien rides up and frowns at Hermione.  
  
"You have donned the clothes of the Lady of the Wood without her consent. This does not bode well. Try these."  
  
Haldir snaps his fingers and Hermione is now clad in a sparkling dress similar to the ones used during the glamorous dance routines in the movie "Chicago". Draco and Ron are now wearing snazzy, sequiny coat-and-tails. The three dance. The ridiculous stupidity of the whole thing is not to be believed.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" asked Hermione as Ron lifts her above his head.  
  
The two boys shrug, tap dance, punch each other, then do a dazzling pirouette while Hermione leaps forward with her arms out and shouts, "Yeah!" for no good reason other than the fact that any dance routine can end with that one word.  
  
It is now night. Snape walks by wearing a fishnet bodysuit, tattered black robes, and enormous combat boots, playing a kick ass number on his electric guitar. Captain Jack Sparrow soon follows, dressed in blood red robes and a black mesh turtleneck over his usual pirate attire.  
  
"The burning passion sears my tainted soul with fiiiiiiiiiiiiire, savvvvey?" shrieks Captain Jack Sparrow into a microphone.  
  
"Let's get this over with." says Malfoy. "Hermione and I love each other, Weasley. You cannot come between us."  
  
"That's right, Ron. I have given my heart to Draco even though I'm only thirteen."  
  
"I am now going to turn completely evil and join forces with Voldemort. Good day!"   
  
Off Ron stomps.  
  
Hermione rushes into Draco's arms, nearly suffocating him with her enormous breasts that have quadrupled in size since the beginning of the story.  
  
"Oh, Draco! What a clever twist in the plot. I knew Ron was a dirty bastard, but to join forces with Voldemort! Oh! How tragic."  
  
"Nay, fairest Hermione. Think not of it, but of our undying love for each other. Come Spring, we shall be wed in Greenhouse 3."  
  
"I'm so happy!" trills Hermione.  
  
"System overload," booms a mechanized McGonagall voice. "You now have T-minus five minutes to reach minimum safe distance."  
  
"This way, Sparrow! I have to cut the wire!"  
  
"*Captain* Jack Sparrow, if ya please, ya greasy bastard. Lead the way, Sap."  
  
"That's 'Snape', you idiot!"  
  
Decked out in their Mission Impossible gear, Captain Jack Sparrow and Professor Snape run to save the now smoking Hogwarts from blowing up while Hermione and Malfoy kiss. Thus ends this deplorable love story.  
  
A/N: I do not own the characters of "Labyrinth", "Pirates of the Carribean", or "Lord of the Rings". Nor do I own any characters or concepts from "The Matrix", "Chicago", "Mission Impossible" or "Aladdin". 


	23. Love Slaves of Azkaban

Title: Love slaves of Azkaban  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.   
  
In a dark, brooding cell deep within Azkaban resides...Lucius Malfoy! Yes, the debonair blond is finally getting his comeuppance. Surprisingly, endless days of dementor torture do little to alter Lucius Malfoy's fine looks, though his black robes are torn and tattered so that he resembles a Stevie Nicks groupie minus the top hat. Look! Lucius doesn't even need to shave. As we all know, only Sirius Black was ever capable of growing a beard in prison.  
  
Poor Lucius huddles in a corner as he slowly freezes to death while the horrors of repressed childhood abuse plague him. Listen, I say!  
  
We are now witnessing Lucius Malfoy's anguish first hand. It sounds like cheerful singing that is slowly growing louder. Merlin's bubblegum assplug! It is the theme song to "The Smurfs"! Run away! But Lucius cannot run away because no one can ever run away from himself! We are going to entirely overlook the fact that Lucius Malfoy's childhood did not include the Smurfs because they hadn't yet been invented. Hey, no one bothers checking timelines in fan fiction. If they do, they neatly insert a Time Turner or Alternate Universe to clean up any inconsistencies.  
  
Lucius Senior barges into the den (this is still Lucius Junior's bad memory, don't forget). Malfoy Snr. looks just like Lucius Jr. as an adult, save his hair is more golden than ash blond. Oh, and *his* cane has a dragon head.  
  
"How dare you watch such Muggle riff-raff, Lucius Jr.! Come here and take your medicine, young man!"  
  
Lucius Sr. proceeds to wallop Lucius Jr. with the dragon headed cane while the theme song to "The Smurfs" plays louder and louder. Come on, everybody, sing along! My apologies. Nostalgia momentarily overtook me.  
  
Anyway, we are back in the present where Lucius is softly humming the Smurf theme while rocking back and forth. For added eeriness, the humming travels down the corridor to...Snape's cell!  
  
Oh...where shall I begin? The thousand tragedies that have encompassed Snape's life culminate into this final injustice of imprisonment! Upon first viewing Snape, we see that he has a pretty good growth of a beard so that he uncannily resembles the Sheriff of Nottingham. In the next scene; however, he is clean shaven because he is generally preferred that way. Snape's jet black/raven/ink/midnight/tar-colored hair is much longer and he is thinner than Kate Moss after a 20 day fast to add to his appeal of frailty and helplessness. Thousands of Snape fans everywhere sigh in unison.  
  
Snape seizes the bars and cries, "I am starving! I had to eat my leather boots! Actually, I am so thin that I could slip right between the bars, but I'm not going to."  
  
A dementor doth approacheth! Snape wails and sinks to the floor in his voluminous Matrix style robes, minus the pants, of course. And no, ladies, he is not wearing any underwear. We are now subject to endless pages of Snape's tragic life from five seconds after his birth to when the wagon pulls up and carts Snape from Hogwarts while a mob follows brandishing torches and pitchforks. Oh. I almost forgot. Here is the gratuitous rape scene you've all been waiting for...  
  
Since the censors won't allow us to enjoy hard core perversion, I'll have to be sneaky in my description of the event. Oh, stop quivering with lust, you perverts! Its' the same old story. Pick any stage of Snape's life; preferably between the ages of 15 to the present. Next have him arguing with an authoritative figure/late for a Death Eaters meeting/grading papers in his dungeon/perusing the Forbidden Forest/having a clam bake-you get the idea.   
  
Enter the antagonist/rapist (no pun intended), usually a fellow Death Eater a.k.a Lucius Jr./Voldemort/evil Harry Potter/Snape's father/centaur who has had too much Aphrodisiac Saucy Punch. A fight ensues with Snape ending up on the bottom, helplessly pinned beneath his attacker. Snape is then subject to hours of being sexually assaulted with wands, sporks and other oddities while Snape fans everywhere eat popcorn in sadistic delight. Sometimes Snape turns out to be a hermaphrodite, though that honor is usually reserved for Harry Potter. Well, it is. Honestly! Have you ever read a story about a hermaphrodite Dumbledore? Ten points to whoever makes me a liar on that one.  
  
Anyway, we pan to present time in Snape's cell where he is sprawled on the floor groaning, eyes closed, reliving the whole abominable 25 plug page experience as the dementor that is hung like a horse comes in and gives Snape a bit of the old in-out. Why is this even happening, you ask? Because it's good for the story.  
  
Snape's sexy, delicious moans echo down the endless corridor to...Harry Potter's cell. Gasp!  
  
Alas, poor 16-year-old Harry Potter has been falsely accused of single-handedly murdering 255,300,150.5 Muggles. It's life without parole, baby! Oddly enough, Harry has more of a beard than Lucius, even though tis merely a bit o stubble.  
  
These last 18 month is the slammer have hardened Harry well beyond his years. You'd be bitter too if you heard Lucius Malfoy incessantly hum the theme song to "The Smurfs" day after day. Of course, Harry relives the death of his parents and of Cedric Diggory a good part of the time. Not to mention the atrocities of the cupboard beneath the stairs back at the dastardly Dursleys. Really, twas a dimension of the utmost bizarreness in that tiny cupboard. Harry never forgot the day he awoke with the donkey and the cravat. Moving on...  
  
"That sounds like Snape." Harry murmurs to himself as though this is the first time he's heard Snape, despite the fact that they've both spent over a year in Azkaban.  
  
"Gargamel!" gurgles Lucius insanely. "Come, Azrael, my sweet! Papa Smurf...why must *you* wear the red pants?"  
  
For a reason none other than plot convenience, Harry is suddenly rooming with Snape or vice versa. Does it even matter? This is the first time Harry has seen the Potion Master in over a year. He is shocked by Snape's gaunt appearance and grizzled beard. However, when Harry ambles over and kneels beside Snape, the Potion Master is suddenly clean shaven. Lack of continuity, damn you!  
  
"Potter," rasps Snape, "is that you?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. Geez, how do you put up with that damn Smurf theme all the livelong day? It's beginning to filter into my memory of Uncle Vernon forcing me to shave his ass with a pair of dull hedge clippers."  
  
"I don't...know...," says Snape and then vomits. "...I think I'm pregnant..."  
  
Nine months later...  
  
Harry, Snape and Lucius are roommates. Don't ask how. It's never quite been established how. Just accept it as you accepted you candy Easter morning without question and the world will be a better place. Things have indeed taken a turn for the worse.. Lucius' robes are more tattered than ever, but *damn* is he a fox! He smells good, too. Lucius twirls about the tiny cell believing he is Handy Smurf. This is not entirely without its benefits, as they now have a king size bed and a nifty island on rollers, courtesy of Lucius' carpentry skills.  
  
Snape is thin as ever. In face, he isn't even showing though he is currently in labor. His long black hair cascades beautifully down the side of the bed as he moans and Harry dabs his pale forehead with a damp cloth. You see, Harry is the youngest Mediwizard in history!  
  
"Breath! Push! Squeeze my hand! Oh, by the way, professor, I think now would be an excellent time to disclose my secret passion for you," says Harry.  
  
Snape screams while Lucius (the MacGyver of the wizarding world) fashions a pair of forceps out of two spoons he's magically enlarged. Yes, I realize he doesn't have a wand and, no, I will not explain how Lucius can use magic without one.  
  
"I can see its head!" shouts Harry.  
  
Suddenly, Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, Hermione and Ron are present. They just stand there and watch Snape suffer through the agonies of childbirth. What a bunch of sadistic bastards. What's more, they are eating popcorn.  
  
"Wait. Why did I make these forceps if there are no complications during the birth?" Lucius wants to know.  
  
"Just kidding. Give me those!" orders Harry, snatching the forceps and...  
  
We cut to a scene of Earth from outer space. Snape's screams echo through the galaxy.  
  
Back in the cell, Ron faints. Thank you for that comic relief, Ron. Hermione repeatedly presses her hands to her mouth in suspense. She feels awfully sorry for Snape.  
  
"There, there, Severus. It's almost over," soothes Dumbledore, patting Snape's now greaseless head.  
  
"How in hell do you know that?" hisses Snape.  
  
"I am Dumbledore. I know all."  
  
One week and 29 seconds later...  
  
"It's a boy!" announces Harry.  
  
Everyone applauds. Ron faints. Lucius looks up from the bassinet he's created from straw and a knapsack.  
  
"Just in time!" he cheerfully remarks.   
  
Ah, Lucius, there is nothing you cannot do, except make yourself a decent robe before the one you are wearing falls off. Allow me to envision that for a few moments...Better still, let us all envision Snape smoking a cigarette and holding a whip while he sits atop my bed and informs me in that deep, silky voice of his that I've been a very naughty little girl. But I digress...  
  
A member of the Ministry enters the cell and shouts, "Congratulations! You've all been pardoned!"  
  
"Yay," says Snape, who looks remarkably well for a man who has just been subjected to a weeks worth of contractions and being prodded with a pair of spoonish forceps.  
  
"Splendid!" exclaims Dumbledore. "You must all come back to live at Hogwarts!"  
  
And Harry officially becomes Snape's son's godfather. And Lucius soars to new heights of success with his own carpentry show. And Snape marries Harry and they live down in the dungeon together in a van by the river. And I am tired of the whole damn concept, so there. Oh, did you want to know who the father of Snape's baby is? No, it's not the dementor. That was just thrown in so we could read about Snape in a compromising position. I think Voldemort used some sort of weird mental telepathy to influence Snape's dreams.  
  
In his dream, Snape and Harry make passionate love on a tropical isle filled with coconuts and glitter. No, not glittering sand. Just glitter. See? It all worked out for the best, though Harry is still referred to as the child's godfather because he misses Sirius, if that makes any sense. Now that the story is finished, I leave you to imagine Lucius Malfoy standing naked in my bedroom while a leather clad Snape smokes a cigarette and disciplines him with a whip. The insane giggling you hear in the background isn't me.  
  
~FIN~  
  
A/N: I don't own the Smurfs, or as my father always referred to them "Those blue little bastards!" Hmmm…that's something Snape would say. 


	24. Forbidden Fruit

Title: Forbidden Fruit  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts.  
  
A/N: Once upon a time this was a MST I created. Then, it was converted to a story on my old, more perverted version of Parody Paradise before it was removed. Anyhow, it's back and although it is not near as graphic, I believe the comedy is still intact. Never fear, it's still plenty perverted. Enjoy!  
  
The ground was thick with white snow; not to be confused with the other assorted colors of snow. Sirius walked along the forest, lost in his melancholy thoughts as the icy wind whipped his long black hair about his face. There is nothing like a stroll in the freezing cold to try and boost one's spirits. You see, Sirius' girlfriend of five years had just left him. Christina (how the name tore at Sirius' heartstrings) had given him no sign their relationship was in trouble. In fact, the last thing she had given Sirius before leaving was (not a blow job, nor an ice lollie, nor a moppet. What the fuck is a moppet anyway?) a massage.  
  
Christina had left Sirius once he had fallen asleep.   
  
'That's a lovely thing to do,' thought Sirius.  
  
Now, he was completely lost without her. So...hopeless. Christina had been life itself to Sirius and now she was gone.  
  
'This is not like me at all. Why am I purposely going out and getting lost in the snow just because a girl of mine took off?'  
  
Maybe...maybe Christina had frozen to death and Sirius simply could not remember.  
  
'Then where is the body?' demanded the logical side of Sirius. 'Perhaps I ate it and cannot recall committing such a travesty!' replied the sensitive side of Sirius.  
  
Overcome with grief, Sirius sank to his knees, tears streaming down his face.  
  
'Great Merlin this is nauseating! I'm glad no one can see me like this.'  
  
Sirius was slowly freezing to death, but so numb with grief was he that he felt nothing save heartache, and a little heartburn. This made Sirius worry all the more about his "missing" girlfriend. He wanted to die.  
  
Suddenly, Sirius looked up because it was convenient to do so, and he saw...an angel.  
  
'I sure died quickly enough...but I cannot be dead. That wouldn't make any sense. Then again, why would any of my actions start making sense now? I mean, for all I know, I might have subconscious cannibalistic tendencies.'  
  
"Remus," whispered Sirius, "where did you come from?"  
  
"The plot hole," replied Remus and smiled.  
  
Remus then knelt before Sirius with offerings of flavored body oils and banana-flavored edible undies. Then, he wrapped his long arms behind Sirius' neck, neither of them understanding why they suddenly fancied each other, but neither dared to complain. They collapsed onto the soft, powdery, freezing snow, enveloped in one another's passionate kisses. Sirius locked his arms and Remus' slender waist, pulling his softly heaving body even closer. Remus moaned softly and proceeded to use his tongue for things other than talking, though I will say that a great deal of tasting was involved. Yes, my friends, this is a prime example of where too much description might not be a good thing for the faint of heart.  
  
Straddling his companion, Remus delicately (yes, he's the "female" of the couple, big surprise, eh?) trailed his fingers down Sirius' manly chest and slowly unbuttoned his robes.  
  
'This is really too much,' thought Sirius. 'One minute I'm all but committing suicide and now I'm being mounted by my friend since childhood out in the middle of nowhere in the freezing snow! What is this wondrous place where desolate strolls result in the copulation of two adult men?'  
  
"Welcome to my world," whispered dreamy-eyed Remus, who, aside from being a lycanthrope, can also read minds.  
  
With a wave of his wand, Remus made both his and Sirius' pants disappear. There were then several acts of probing. Sirius then groaned in ecstasy. Remus then displayed his grand knowledge of the Kama Sutra. There was then more probing. Nude yoga was next on the agenda, followed by reenacting the choicest scenes from "Risky Business". Never had Sirius felt so much pleasure! He was helpless before Remus' sudden assertiveness and excellent memory of the finer aspects of tantric sex.  
  
Sirius' newly found submission struck a powerful chord within Remus. It made him want to do things to Sirius that neither of them had ever before dreamed. He gazed deep into Sirius' eyes and said, "I want to things to you that neither of us has ever before dreamed."  
  
"Oh, yes!" moaned Sirius breathlessly. "Yes! Do with me whatever you will. Please?"  
  
'Hot damn!' thought one or both of them.  
  
Remus then reached inside his robes and produced an orange and a jar of Vaseline. Remus then gripped the orange tightly in his hand and thrust it-  
  
Sirius bolted upright in his bed screaming like his stomach was being reamed with a bayonet.   
  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME WITH THE ORANGE?!!!!?" he shrieked, horror-stricken.  
  
"Sirius, is there a problem?" inquired a sleepy voice beside him.  
  
"I-it-I dreamed that both I and a piece of fruit were...abused!"  
  
"Aren't you overreacting just a bit? It was only a dream. Lie down."  
  
Sirius did so with a long sigh.  
  
"These dreams will land me in St. Mungos at this rate. Haven't I already had enough setbacks in my life? Oh *please*, Severus, make it go away!"  
  
The greasy Snape pulled the shivering Sirius to him and smoothed Sirius' long, soft dark hair from his face.  
  
"Every night before you go to bed, tell yourself that as long as Severus Snape is with you, no fruit will be abused or be used to abuse you."  
  
"That helps. Goodnight, my darling Severus."  
  
"Goodnight, Sirius."  
  
"Goodnight, Remus."  
  
"Goodnight, Christina."  
  
"Severus, we really do need to invest in a couple of king size beds."  
  
~FIN~ 


	25. Of Princesses and the Bullwinkle The Bul...

Title: Of Amulets and the Bullwinkle Theorem  
  
Author: Ivory Tower  
  
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns all Harry Potter characters and concepts. I am not responsible for the Rocky and Bullwinkle show or any characters or concepts from it. The late Tolkien and his estate own all characters and concepts of Middle Earth.  
  
Ginny Weasley was on her way to potions when something caught the corner of her eye. A very shiny sparkling something. Weaving through the mass of students, who were conveniently in too much of a hurry to notice the shiny thing, Ginny approached the shiny object and bent down to retrieve it. Sigh. I wonder what it could possibly be.  
  
It was an amulet and it was pretty! Prepare yourselves for the over detailed description of the amulet: The amulet was beautiful! The end. Just kidding, my hearties! Ahem. The amulet had a pale amethyst jewel that glittered brilliantly in the sun even though this takes place in a windowless section of Hogwarts. It hung on a silver chain and had odd but lovely delicate engravings on the back. Upon closer inspection, Ginny realized the amulet to be in the shape of a 3/4 waning crescent moon in the middle of September. What a find! How lucky for young Ginny that no one else in the entire school had stumbled upon such a unique prize! Perhaps over half the student population needed glasses.  
  
Anyway, Ginny pocketed the amulet and skipped off to potions humming "Ave Maria" because we want to believe she is smart and cultured.  
  
"Miss Weasley!" barked the evil Potions Master, a.k.a the seductive Severus Snape. "You are a millisecond late. Fifty points from Gryffindor and you must buff my golf shoes with a spoon. Now sit down. As I was saying about the Bullwinkle Theorem..."  
  
Bored and unhappy at her ill luck, Ginny produced the gorgeous, sparkly amulet from her robe. Ooooh! Its shininess was mesmerizing, just like Johnny Depp's ass. Then, it vibrated in her hand. You read that correctly, folks, the amulet vibrated. Somehow, Ginny just knew that the amulet was trying to communicate with her!!! Ugh, the stupidity!!!  
  
"...aardvarking? Miss Weasley! Stop staring at your hand and answer the question."  
  
Ginny snapped to attention, quickly hiding the vibrating amulet. Sharp as the devious Snape's eyes were, he, like the rest of Hogwarts, was oblivious to the gleaming amulet.  
  
"I'm sorry, professor. Could you repeat the question?"  
  
Miniature volcanoes erupted in Snape's black eyes, he was so outraged.  
  
"How dare you blatantly ignore my superior intellect, Miss Weasley! I expect a five-thousand-page essay on the arithmancy factors of the Bullwinkle Theorem in direct relation with the absinthe epidemic of the 1800's! Now, pay attention as I draw this pentagram on the blackboard to further illustrate my point on the existence of the Bullwinkle Theorem."  
  
Hermione Granger raised her hand, even though she's not even in the same year as Ginny.  
  
"Sir, the Bullwinkle Theorem is, at best, a weak hypothesis."  
  
"That is your opinion Miss Granger. I know what I saw! On one of the Rocky and Bullwinkle episodes with the Moon Men, I specifically saw a book in the foreground entitled 'Sex on Planet X'! I saw it! Someone else out there saw it as well. They must have."  
  
Colin Creevey sighed and said, "Nearly every Rocky and Bullwinkle episode had the Moon Men, professor."  
  
"Or captain Peach Fuzz," added someone.  
  
"Silence!" ordered Snape.  
  
"Hey, professor, if you grew a moustache and wore a black fedora, you'd look just like Boris Badenov, only taller."  
  
"Shut up, whoever you are!" snarled Snape.  
  
"Yes, Fearless Leader," chorused the class.  
  
Snape kind of liked this title so he let it pass and dismissed everyone.  
  
That evening, Ginny lie on her bed staring at the pretty amulet until her eyes became heavy...  
  
Stand by for idiotic dream sequence in 3...2...1...  
  
Ginny walked in a beautiful forest filled with the faintest sound of rich, melodic music with just a hint of The B52's. She just happened to pass a stream and caught here reflection in the stream's calm, glasslike surface as it rushed like a roaring rapid. She had elf ears! How about that!?! It gets more ridiculous, just wait. Ginny's red hair was now a fiery auburn and trailed to her waist in thick, flowing waves. She wore a dainty tiara that contained the same pale amethyst just like in the amulet she'd found! Her brown eyes had beautiful flecks of gold; her milky white skin like porcelain; the nails the perfect length and shade of mauve; her dress pale green with silver vine-like embroidery and pale lilac ruffles at the bosom, further emphasizing her suddenly very well developed breasts. Okay, so Ginny had a figure like a model would after donning a corset, only Ginny had not donned a corset. Lucky her.  
  
Suddenly, this tall blonde elf lady in a white dress appears (yes, it's Galadriel. I'm telling you this because I'm so horrified you might not see the friggin obvious).  
  
"Ginny...you are my great granddaughter to the millionth power. Evil things are about to happen. Be strong and fulfill your destiny...Oh, and here is Legolas."  
  
Legolas trots out in all his long blond-haired glory and waves at Ginny. Ginny smiles and floats without the use of Wingardium Leviosa. Then she wakes up.  
  
"Damn it! It was just starting to get good," she grumbled.  
  
Twas morning of the next day and Ginny realized she had not written her five-thousand-page essay on the Bullwinkle Theorem. Worse still, she was late for Potions. Then, a bird died. The seas boiled and the skies fell! Worst of all, Snape was waiting very patiently for Virginia Weasley to arrive.  
  
"Sir, may I go? I shouldn't even be here," said Harry Potter, unscrewing the lid off a jar of rubber cement. Snape ordered Harry to be quiet. Harry sighed and said, "Your dictatorship of this class is depressing, and the Bullwinkle Theorem is a joke."  
  
"Out!" shrieked Snape, jutting a long, thin finger at the door. "And put down that rubber cement!"  
  
Harry shook his head as he took his leave. About halfway to the door, he halted and began to taunt Snape.  
  
"How silly of me to touch the rubber cement. Tear your eyes from the rubber cement, children, lest it interfere with the professor's botched Bullwinkle Theorem. Oh look: a K-Mart receipt; it must be part of the Bullwinkle Theorem, too. The bloody Matrix is part of the Bullshit-I mean the Bullwinkle Theorem!"  
  
Snape threw his mug of steaming root beer at the Boy-Who-Lived. At this moment, Ginny walked in. Harry paled.  
  
"Okay, I'm leaving before the nonsensical babble about elfish princesses and other nauseating pointlessness ruin my borderline euphoric state courtesy of inhaling deeply of the rubber cement."  
  
Harry then vanished. Snape grew fangs and glowing red cat's eyes in his wrath at Ginny's tardiness.  
  
"Miss Weasley!" he roared. "Where is your five-thousand-page essay on the Bullsh-I mean the Bullwinkle Theorem? Don't any of you dare laugh at my slip up!" Snape glared the evil glare of certain doom at his pupils.   
  
"Dobby mistook it for toilet paper?" asked Ginny, hoping Snape would believe her.   
  
Snape did not believe her. However, just then the amulet glowed brightly and vibrated anew and Ginny was revealed to the elfish princess she really was just like in her dream! And I apologize for that grammatical travesty.  
  
Then Voldemort attacked the school and lots of people died! Oh my God! He kidnapped Ginny and took her to his secret lair beneath Lucius Malfoy's prized turnip garden. Snape beheld the dead bodies in the aftermath of the onslaught and cried. Now there was no one left to teach about the Bullwinkle Theorem. Oh no! Harry Potter had survived! Snape cried; he loathed young Potter for mocking his Bullshit-I mean Bullwinkle Theorem.  
  
In Voldemort's lair, Voldemort chained Ginny to the wall and began the elaborate pre-sacrificial activities. He and the other Death Eaters made pleasant small talk while drinking martinis. He then complimented Lucius on his delightful turnip garden. Ginny cried because she just knew that all was lost!  
  
Out of nowhere, Legolas rode in on Halifax. Oh how his beautiful long blond hair streamed behind him!  
  
"Sorry I had to trample your lovely turnip garden," Legolas apologized to Lucius, who drew his wand to Avada Kadavra the silly elf.  
  
"Nooooo!" cried Ginny.  
  
Voldemort smirked and said, "Lucius, you look so sinfully and stunningly sexy when you are murderously angry. Attack! Kill the elves!"  
  
Legolas whipped out his big ten inch-I mean his bow, and killed all the Death Eaters. He only wounded Lucius because we like the idea of a helpless, angry, wounded Lucius. Legolas destroyed Voldemort too. He freed Ginny, the fair elfish maiden, and they rode away through the now devastatingly damaged turnip garden of Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Damn it all! I am bleeding here! Someone help me. Narcissa? Anyone!" shouted Lucius and tried to remove the arrow but that really hurt like a motherfucker, so he quit.  
  
Galadriel, Harry and Snape walked in while arguing heatedly over the Bullwinkle Theorem.  
  
"Whoever maintains that dastardly turnip garden should be caned." declared Galadriel.  
  
"Lucius, you look rather well for a man who has been wounded with an arrow," commented Snape, whisking out more complicated diagrams of the Bullwinkle Theorem. "Now, everyone sit and listen to this."  
  
"Foolish mortal," grumbled Galadriel, seating herself on Voldemort's throne.  
  
"Will one of you help me?" snarled Lucius, struggling to get up.  
  
"Be silent, Lucius!" hissed Snape. "Now, as you can clearly see-"  
  
"Those are the schematics for the Hellraiser Lament Box. Would you look at that, Harry? This snarky brewer of mind-altering liquids is nothing more than a hack." insisted Galadriel.  
  
"At times like these, I would rather be in my cupboard," said Harry, thoroughly bored.  
  
14 hours later...  
  
Galadriel slouched on Voldemort's throne while struggling to keep her eyes open. Harry popped Excedrin to fight off a killer migraine. Snape whisked away the final chart.  
  
"In summation, the playing of Pink Floyd's 'The Wall' during episode 106 of Rocky and Bullwinkle clearly reveals-"  
  
"Professor, no one cares," interrupted Harry, rubbing his pounding forehead.  
  
Snape turned very white and snapped his ruler in half.  
  
"How dare you say such a thing to me, Potter!"  
  
Just then, Dumbledore came in and regarded Snape with a stern expression.  
  
"Severus, I told you to stop forcing the Bullwinkle Theorem on innocent bystanders. I thought we were well beyond this twaddle."  
  
"The Bullwinkle Theorem is not twaddle, Headmaster. I know what I saw!"  
  
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, I know you did. You also saw the Aurora Borealis in Arkansas and Morgan Le Fay on the front of a box of ice lollies."  
  
Lucius crawled over to Dumbledore and tugged on his robes.  
  
"Please...I feel weak..."  
  
"Yes, yes. Hello to you too, Lucius. Now Severus, I shall have to take you to St. Mungos for reconditioning."  
  
Harry and Galadriel brightened when they heard this. Lucius finally passed out, but he got to go to St. Mungos too because Dumbledore thought he'd been brainwashed to believe the madness of Snape's Bullwinkle Theorem.  
  
In the end, Ginny returned to Hogwarts because Legolas ran off with Aragorn to write screenplays for the next "Leprechaun" sequel. Snape eventually returned to Hogwarts and no longer lectures about the Bullwinkle Theorem. He claims to have recently seen the likeness of Gilderoy Lockhart in a bowl of pudding. Harry has recently completed his 90 day program to cleanse his brain of the toxic fumes of rubber cement. As for the shiny vibrating amulet, it was never seen again.  
  
A/N: I got the idea of the Bullwinkle Theorem from an actual experience in my early teenage years. I spent my summer afternoons watching Rocky and Bullwinkle re-runs and to this day I believe I saw a book in the foreground entitled "Sex on Planet X". I am not making this up and I was not on drugs. Yet again, the idea of Morgan Le Fay on the front of a box of ice lollies is drawn from a true experience when I was 13 or 14. I was on the phone with a friend, opened the freezer and for a split second I saw, not Morgan Le Fay, but Axl Rose on the front of the box. Yes, I was obsessed with Guns N' Roses in my youth. As always, I do not apologize for any sudden change of verb tense. Thank you. 


End file.
